#i was thinking about this for hours last night trying to work through my feelings

[fangbanger3000]

we need to talk about The Silence and The Song

as per my last post, i have received a lot of encouragement to go public with this, and the more disappointed people i have in my dms, the angrier i get. so i will.

the silence and the song is an ancient arlathan au DA fic on ao3 by luxannaslut, and it is partly, if not entirely, written by an ai. i have no wish to be involved in any kind of fandom drama or witch hunting or bullying, but as a writer myself there are few things that piss me off more than watching people steal the work of others because they can't be fucked to write. it's disrespectful to your fellow writers, it's disrespectful to your readers, and it's disrespectful to the authors of the works the ai is stealing from.

ai is a plague that has no business being in creative spaces and you must do better.

the writing pattern

there was something very odd and monotone about the sentence structure of tsats that i couldn't quite place, so i fed chatgpt a prompt along the lines of "two people in a fantasy novel hate each other, but they secretly desire one another, and they kiss", and the screenshots above are the results. the third one is an excerpt from chapter 40 of tsats. the writing pattern is identical and it doesn't seem like the "writer" has even bothered to pretend they wrote it. if you're going to use ai, at least be sneaky about it. you know, paraphrase a little.

nonsense descriptions

"her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision" (ct. 1), "his grip firm but tender" (ct. 33), "her gown pooling around her like embers" (ct. 1).

fingers don't make sound, so what does quiet precision mean? as opposed to what? her joints cracking with every movement? how is a grip firm but tender? what does that mean? since when do embers pool?

the entire fic is littered with these adjectives that contradict each other or just straight up do not make sense, because all an ai does is generate descriptive language with no understanding of what the words it's spitting out actually mean. i could spend hours picking out examples from the seven billion pages worth of text, but i quite frankly have better things to do and would simply challenge you to try getting through a chapter or two without noticing the pattern.

repetition at structure-level

all the scenes in this fic are described in pretty much the same way. they open with purple prose vomit of the surroundings; solas is standing somewhere looking "unreadable as ever"; ellana's fiery golden molten fire copper ember ginger red hair is flowing this and that way; there's some dialogue with whoever is present and it leaves ellana feeling different variations of "something she couldn't name". this is, once again, a blatantly obvious sign of ai. below is the result of me feeding chatgpt the line "write me a scene from a fantasy novel where a woman with red hair is sitting on the ground in a magical garden at night", and side by side with that is the opening scene of the fic. make your own judgement.

repetition at word-level

this one speaks for itself. we fucking get it. her dress is orange, her hair is red, mythal's presence is heavy in the room, solas looks unreadable, compassion is sitting on her head like a crown, solas' ears are betraying him and ellana's move with every thought she thinks. we get it. the issue here is that an ai remembers the info you feed it, but not necessarily the info it shits out. if it's being told to write scene after scene of an elven woman with a gown that looks like fire doing xyz, it's going to do so with no regard for how many times the reader has already been informed of these details.

lastly: the breakneck speed

359,6k words in four weeks by a person who allegedly is employed and married and hasn't pre-written anything? no. any writer will tell you that this simply isn't possible. it absolutely infuriates me to see how much praise this "writer" gets for posting up to three full chapters in a day without anyone calling bullshit. i am pulling out my hair, you guys.

why i'm not going to live and let live this one

perhaps i would be less angry if the fic was some silly bullshit court intrigue Y/A stuff, but this is a text that handles very heavy and triggering topics such as SA, coercion, domestic abuse, and other things of the same vein. to sit back and put your feet up while having a robot write these extremely sensitive and very real human experiences with words it has stolen from texts written by actual persons is fucking heinous. the "writer" should be deeply ashamed of themselves and i'm sick and tired of watching people eat up their bs.

and on that note: the amount of people in my dm's telling me that they feel stupid and naive for not clocking this has infuriated me more than anything else. you're not foolish for this. being fed ai-generated bullshit is not what is supposed to happen on any creative platform and much less a fandom-centred one, so of course no one approaches a fic through that lens. fandom and fic writing is supposed to be about passion and the only person in this situation who needs to do better and change their behaviour is luxannaslut. polluting our creative spaces, wasting the time of your readers, and minimising the effort of actual writers who are working hard to provide content for us all to share and enjoy is vile and so, so lazy. i beg of you: do better.

[staylovesmiley]

So this is kind of built off someone’s previous ask but kind of angstier I guess

But thoughts on poly skz x reader who are away on tour. And as much as they love the reader and will miss her they still have each other so they have someone to love and hold every night , they still getting laid all the damn time. But she’s just at home all sad and lonely cause all her 8 boyfriends are gone but she doesn’t want to be a bother cause she knows they are busy on tour

Angst is my specialty hehe~

Poor reader would feel so lonely without her boyfriends (as someone who’s is somewhat long distance with my own partner??? I mean like- a little over an hour but still lol) the boys would also be gutted to not have her there but like you said…they aren’t exactly lonely-

They would try begging her to join them on tour but as usual they got a “I can’t- you know I have work too or else I would.” Or something of the sort in response and it would SUCK telling them no even when they offer to pay for your ticket to come see them but ugh being an adult means having responsibilities unfortunately…

They would send you videos and pictures and try and keep you updated on their lives on tour so you don’t feel left out but it only makes you feel that much lonelier. But you signed up for this, you knew their careers would mean you would have to be apart from them sometimes while they got to be together…I feel like after a while, when your replies to them started to become short with the pressure of pretending that everything is okay and tbh I feel like Minho would clock that shit first. Immediately he is calling you out asking what is wrong and you would try and hide it as till until he starts blowing up your phone with calls until you finally answer and hearing his voice sound so concerned would be the tipping point and you are crying and confessing how lonely you’ve been feeling to him in seconds.

After calming you down and talking through it he convinces you to say something to the others so you have a group call where you all talk about your feelings and how the distance has been so hard- and you feel better afterwards and life goes on as it had been, counting down the days until they get back to you….until Seungmin shows up at your work place with flowers and you are so shocked you think you might be hallucinating and he admits that he may have impulsively bought a plane ticket while you were all on a call that night and wanted to surprise you~ it’s only for a few days since he still has tour to go back to but instead of spending his free days in between stops in whatever city they were in last he decided to fly back to spend as much time as he could with his beautiful girlfriend who he missed so so much and for the rest of the tour, a few of your other boyfriends decide to do the same thing and you feel much less lonely than you did before~

I know it was meant to be angsty but I’ve been in a fluffy comfort mood lately- been super stressed with work and could use comfort hehe

[quokkaholic]

Teenage Heaven h.j

Warnings: MDNI, fluffy smut with some plot, alcohol consumption, kissin and touchin, f nipple play, dry humping, cussing duh. Lightly edited

Synopsis: (NOT about teens)Y/n and Han are in the early stages of their relationship and are meeting up in NYC for the first time since you met initially while he is there for work. Despite being long distance, neither of you want to rush into sleeping together, but that doesn’t mean you guys can’t do other stuff to satisfy your cravings.

Song recommendation: Teenage Heaven by Be Your Own Pet

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Han was anxious to tell you that, as much as he wanted to greet you at the baggage claim, it just wasn’t possible, no matter how much he begged staff to allow it. Despite that, he assured you he’s tracking your flight and will be in a car there waiting for you. When the plane lands in NYC, you turn off airplane mode to send a message to Han only to be inundated by messages from him.

“I cant believe i get to see you in a few hours”

“Im scared”

“And excited”

“Mostly excited”

“I can’t think about anything else. Why aren’t you here already?”

“It’s only been like half an hour”

“Im going to squeeze the life out of you”

“You should be scared too”

“I’m getting no work done”

“This is dumb asf”

“I should’ve been camping at your gate since last night”

“Should’ve never left the airport, and just waited there for you”

“You should be landing in an hour and 47 minutes”

“I keep trying to get them to take me to the airport already. They brush me off like im crazy”

“not crazy”

“Maybe for you tho 😉”

“Headed your way! Yuuh!”

“We’re parked outside”

“You landed 2 minutes ago…WHERE ARE YOU?”

“I tried to make a break for it, but staff knows me too well. child lock is on”

You are grinning at the phone screen as you read them, not only because of how adorable it is, but because you feel similarly. You tried to take a little nap on the flight, but your nerves and anticipation kept you wide awake. You let Han know that your plane hasn’t even taxied into the gate yet, but you'll be with him as fast as your legs can carry you.

“What does your bag look like? I could send someone to go get it for you, so you can just come straight to me. I'm already doing it. What color is it? Does it have a tag or anything?” He’s doing everything in his power to get you into his arms as soon as possible.

“I didn’t check a bag, Sungie. I just have my carryon and a backpack, so I can come straight to you ☺️” 

“Perfect. Better run babe”

Typically when you fly, you are one of the last ones to exit the plane, waiting for everyone else to grab their stuff from the overhead bins and trudge through the crowded aisle, but today you were the first one standing. You think people could sense your urgency; no one even tried to hop out in front as you slipped between the seats. Following the signs, you speed walk to the pick up area that Han is parked at. Your eyes are immediately drawn to a blacked out luxury hatchback with a tint as dark as us legally allowed; there's a man standing at the back resting on the bumper, and he waves you over. As you approach you see an almost unrecognizable figure wearing sunglasses, a mask, and beanie with his face smushed up against the dark glass. When you reach the car, the staff member waiting for you opens the trunk, and you go to pick up your luggage to load it, but are thrown off by a shout from the backseat of the vehicle.

“Y/nnah! Get in the damn car!”

You stayed up late last night stressing about this very moment. How would it feel to see him again? What if the connection isn’t there like it was last time? Would it be awkward? Would you two just end up sitting in silence? As you enter the car, you realize your hours of anxiety ridden overthinking were all for nothing. He immediately clings to you pulling you in for a soul warming embrace. You somehow manage to end up simultaneously both be in each other's laps becoming a roiling lump of limbs and love, unable to tear your hands off him. Memorizing how he feels, for those nights where you question if he is even real or just a self indulgent illusion. There are a few shared kisses, but you are holding yourselves back for the sake of the driver and security in the front seat.

Seeing him in person is a bit like seeing a ghost, and it has you and Han both in a state of awe. There is, in fact, a period of dreaded quiet between you and Han, but it's not awkward. It’s one you two share intentionally to bask in your togetherness. You are both but caught up in the moment, unable to believe this truly happened and worked out. Smiling at eachother with rosy cheeks and racing hearts, you train all of your senses on him, barely even noticing the soft sound of the radio in the background. 

You go over what the next few days of your vacation have in store with Han. When planning, initially he pitched going on a date tonight, but after some discussion, you both decided it would be better to have a hotel room date and just order food, so you cans have uninterrupted couple time for the first time.

The hotel is stunning, way fancier than you've ever stayed at. You enter through a back entrance that is arguably more grandiose than the main lobby as it's only used for high profile guests. Han shows you to your suite; his room is only a little down the hall. Opposed to your typical single rooms with a bathroom and a kitchenette, this place is like a luxury apartment: bedroom, living room, dining area, massive bathroom with a bathtub and shower, and a separate toilet room all designed and littered in the most up to date, trendy decor.

“Ji, you didn’t have to do all this. A normal room would have been more than acceptable!”

“Y/nn I know I didn’t have to. I do this because I want to. Plus, I kind of intend to be over here a lot, so I didn’t want it to be too cramped. I also wanted there to be a place we could sit together that wasn't the bed to be… respectful I guess” He can’t hold your gaze as the last part passes his lips. 

“You're so sweet, Jisung” You say as you walk over to him after you dropped your bags. He's cheeks hot and avoiding your eyes; you are drawn to him, possessed to hug and squeeze and never let go. The snuggle pulls Han out of his shyness caused by your compliment.

“That was the first time I’ve heard you say my name in person” He says nuzzling his face into your neck. He snakes his hands around your waist and delivers his promise from earlier; Han squeezes you so hard, like an python, he manages to squeeze tighter and tighter while attacking your neck with quick tight lipped pecks until your back cracks. It startles him a bit, gasping and releasing his hold to grab your shoulders with a look of horror on his face. If you weren’t immediately cackling about it, he would have been worried he hurt you. 

Han was considerate enough to think ahead, and the food was to be delivered soon after you guys arrived at the hotel for an early dinner so you guys could spend the evening together. For now there is nothing to do but enjoy being in each other’s company, and it feels so right. It's tender beyond comprehension, but not overly explicit: gentle kisses and even gentler hands traveling up ticklish sides or through lush hair.  Running your hands up and down his toned arms, you can't help but grab them briefly, feeling his muscles flex under your touch; they have definitely grown since the last time you saw him. You guys slowly start to get more and more comfortable and bold. The soft grazes transition to firm pets, but there is soon a knock on the door. He took your suggestion, and ordered from your favorite restaurant from the last time you were here as well as a bottle of your favorite wine which he must’ve committed to memory from a long passed conversation, as you don't even remember sharing that info. 

Dinner is a dream. The table is by the massive glass sliding doors that lead out to the balcony allowing the city lights to stream in. It goes without saying that the chat is immaculate, but the energy is so familiar and fun. You aren’t worried about eating too much in front of him or talking with your mouth full. Jisung just makes you feel comfortable and admired, like you can just be yourself and he’ll savor every moment. Once dinner is over and the bottle of wine is empty, you two make your way to the couch under the guise of wanting to show you some new music he has been working on, but the intense stares and frequent brushing hands had the tension quite high. He simply turns on some tunes to not be in silence, before your lips find each other. 

The intimacy from early returns tenfold with newly injected sensuality. The firm grips progress to needy grasping, with daring finger dipping under the hems of your shirts, and you find yourselves in a passionate makeout. Although the kiss is hot and lustful, his tongue is timid in its exploration, so soft and gentle as it glides through your mouth, careful to tame his raging desire and not to use too much force. It becomes the sloppy and impassioned kind of kiss you can lose hours to. Your session goes till your lips are swollen and your hair is a mess. You would say the light lip product you had on was gone, but you know exactly where it is, it’s smeared out all over and around your mouths only adding to the kissed raw look. Han’s messy love drunk expression spurs you on, and while traveling your kisses down to his neck, his hands grip your hips to lift and guide you to straddle him. You don’t hesitate to follow his lead.

Settling yourself down onto him, you both let out a small gasp, and you have to fight your instinct to seek friction, but your restraint is short lived. After Ji undoes your bra and helps you remove it from under your shirt, his hands are glued to your breasts gently kneading while intermittently rubbing his thumbs over your nipples drawing soft moans from your lips and little circles of your hips.

You keep trying to give him attention by kissing his shoulders or nibbling on his ear, but he will only let you do it for a moment before he switches his affections back to you. Once you notice the pattern, you pull away for a second, also partially to catch your breath. You ask through pants,

“Am I doing okay? You keep cutting me short,” staring down into his eyes you see no sign of discontent. In fact, at your words his full cheeks tense into a big smile before going back to attacking your neck and mumbling against your skin like he can’t look at you when he admits,

“You just sound too good, Yn. I can’t get enough.”

His words alone make you whimper into his ear causing him to shiver. He begins to move lower, lingering on your collar bones. Licking and nipping. He lightly presses together and lifts your tits to his mouth to kiss them through your shirt. Kissing all over but planting light kisses to your hard bud before switching to the other. He reaches for the bottom hem of your top and looks up to check in before he proceeds.

“This okay?” You struggle to find your words and just nod down to him with your lips pressed together, but he asks again wanting a verbal confirmation from you as he begins to raise your top.

“Feels good baby?”

It would be much easier to respond if he wasn’t giving feather light kissing to your sensitive nipples.

“Yes, Ji. I… I really like it” you say, gasping as he pinches your bud between his top teeth and tongue. Screwing your eyes shut as seeing him look up through his tousled hair with his adoring gaze, mouth connected to your chest, makes you feel like you’re going to melt. You can no longer restrain the involuntary rutting of your hip and decide to just commit. One of Han's hands shoots down to grip your hip tight enough to leave fingerprints and presses you down to grind into him. His previously low and soft moans are rising in volume and frequency being dampened by your skin. Your linen pants are cute and were so comfortable for the flight, but they do little in the way of concealing what you are grinding against. They are so thin that you can target your clit onto the zipper fold of his jeans over the shaft of his hard cock.

With all the work Han has put in with his mouth, it doesn’t take many circles of your hips to get the heat and pressure in your lower stomach to rise. You grab either side of Han's face and remove his mouth as the pleasure was starting to become too much and smash your lips down on his and moan into the kiss. Keeping your pressure firm and rhythm consistent, Han’s breath is trembling, whimpering and whispering your name. His sounds, his words, his touch, it all works together in symphony, and you contract forward to rest your head on his shoulder and groan as the you reach the tipping point and you orgasm radiates through you. As you hold onto him and attempt to ride out your pleasure, the sensation of Han now gripping you with both hands pushing you down on his lap, aiding in your grinding as he fucks up against you have another high crashing over you. His voice is shaky when he finds the ability to speak,

“Fuck. Feels so… I’m gonna…Oh my god”

His rolling of his hips has turned to erratic bucking as he cums hard shuddering, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing like earlier.

“Holy shit. I haven’t jizzed my pants since I was a teen” Han giddily admits with just a twinge of embarrassment, still clinging to you trying to catch his breath.

“This is a first for me! Didn’t know it could even happen” you confess still winded from the pleasure, causing you both to let out weak laughter, neither of you daring to move for a few minutes, just lounging in the afterglow. You guys decide that Han will stay to watch some stuff and if he just so happens to fall asleep here, oh well, right? Getting two rooms was out of respect and consideration, but you both knew you’d end up sleeping in the same bed. He lets you freshen up in the bathroom first, and once you exit, he has a fresh set of clothes in his arms. He must’ve called one of the guys to bring them. 

The rest of the night is filled with endless snuggles and random movies you can find on the hotel channels; the Harry Potter movies always seem to be on TV, so you end up watching two random ones of the series out of order. Han offers to go get his laptop to hook up to the tv, but neither of you care enough to walk the 40 feet down to his room and back. This night isn't about the movies, it's about taking in every moment of being in the same room. You guys end up staying up late flicking through channels, becoming amateur film critics. It's a bit past 1am when Han has the brilliant idea for you guys to go to a convenience store nearby and pick up some ice cream. You are in the city that never sleeps, and you will never turn down an adventure or a sweet treat. He sends a text to Minho claiming he can’t get ice cream without at least offering to get one for his best friend.

“Going to get ice cream. Meet in lobby in 10”

You and Han put on your shoes and coats and share a few more smooches before you can’t for 20 minutes.

“Did Minho respond?”

“No but he read it”

“So..?”

“He’s probably already down there waiting for us”

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A.n- I initially wrote this for a Han fic I was making before I realized that writing long form fanfic was not for me, so there's a bit more plot in this one. Thanks for reading.

-mo 💕

Mastserlist

[despite-everything]

im sitting outside my partners apartment in my car and honestly i shouldnt have come. im pretty upset (with both of them, but one in particular) because of some shit and id been debating not coming down to see them (i live an hour away... i have a thing in this town tomorrow night, so rather than just driving down for that i was coming today so i could spend the night with my partners and enjoy time with them) and i convinced myself to visit anyway and i shouldnt have. if i didnt have to be in this town tomorrow id actually just turn around and drive back home. i thought itd be best if i still came because id be embarrassed to tell my dad (who i live with) why plans changed and im tired of lying about shit like this. i need to talk to my partners aboutthis because if nothing changes i will break up with them - i understand that these problems that are arising are due in part to mental illness, but its not fair to expect me to just have to adapt to shitty treatment because of it. we're all fucking mentally ill and if they can't improve their behavior after months of promising to them im just fucking done. this has happened to me so many times before in friendships and relationships and its fucking embarrassing!! if i was anyone else i'd be saying to break up immediately but i don't want to.

im just fucking venting here but i dont know who to even talk to about this other than my partners and while that's going to happen eventually im just like... im fucking upset. every few weeks, i drive for more than an hour each way to visit people who live in a town i used to live in. they rarely come see me. i spend money on food and gas when i do this and have to account for it in my monthly budgeting. i stay with people who say they have no plans and want to prioritize us spending time together, but when i get there, they almost always have made separate plans while i'm there that i am not part of, and rarely give me a warning so that i can adjust my schedule or make other plans of my own. i mention that this is an issue, they promise to do better, then they dont. i adjust to texting a few days in advance to check their schedule, and despite doing so,they consistently make or have "forgotten" other scheduling conflicts that they bring up either the night before i drive to visit or when i arrive. thats the scenario, right? this has happened to me before. last time, it was with my high school friends who continued to string me along until i decided that it hurt too much and i slowly backed out of the friendships. no one has reached out since. this time, it's my fucking partners. the main difference is that i have a key to my partners apartment, meaning im not stuck in my car/in parks when they're busy. but thats just so fucked up. especially since my partners used to encourage me to step back from my old friends who were hurting me this way.

im just venting so i can get some of this shit off my chest before i go inside. to my knowledge, one of my partners is inside napping, while the other is in some meeting they didnt tell me about until last night. i dont even know what the fucking meeting is about or where it is.

i dont want to go inside because... what? am i supposed to pretend everything is fine and hide my feelings so they dont feel guilty? thats not fucking fair. if i let my upset show, they're going to act like kicked puppies and im going to feel fucking awkward because i dont want excuses and i dont want groveling or a hundred "im sorrys". i dont want that. i want their fucking behavior to change.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[floral-hex]

okay, so lil steroid shot seemingly hasn’t done much for my breathing, but it did give me a bit of… uh… *squints at side effects* insomnia and sore butt

[chiumii]

SIZE ~ (true form) sukuna x reader ౨ৎ .⋆。⊹ 18+

thinking about kuna with a size kink....... is not good for my mental health omg. sukuna has been stalking you for what seem like years. Watching you when you walk to class, going out with your friends, heading to work,,, and who you fuck yourself late at night. You've always had a feeling as if you were being watched for the last couple years. An unknown darkness that follows you around. It should have scared you away,,,, but you couldn't help but give into your sinful desires... especially on the night that this darkness comes to pay you a little visit.

word count: 7600 sukuna x reader smut. size kink,,, obviously. dumbification, fingering, slapping, overstimulation, heavy smut, corruption kink, stalking, voyeurism, breeding, monster fucking, heavy CNC. Double penetration. Perv! Monster! Stalker! Sukuna x Innocent! reader (I have a problem). True form sukuna smut (yes, we get a double dicker sandwich).

Sukuna always knew that he had a size kink, he just never acknowledged the fact until he met you. You were so small compared to him, it was like you were just a measly doll, a puppet. So pretty, so small, and so, so very innocent. He almost felt guilty for the things he fantasizes about doing to you. almost.

He additionally almost felt a little guilty for how many times he'd watched you masturbate through your window late into the night. The sounds you make while touching your pretty pussy were the only thing that calmed him after a long and stressful evening. He had been doing this for a while. Watching you, that is. He liked watching you get dressed for the day, guessing what makeup style you were planning on doing, the little pop you did with your lips right after you applied your lip gloss. It should be disgusting how many times he's rubbed one out to the sight of you popping those pretty pink, full glossy lips. but he didn't care nor did he feel a tinge of disgust towards himself.

He enjoyed all the times he's watched you walk to and from your little cafe job down the street. How your routine consisted of grabbing a coffee at a different spot despite being able to make yourself a free one at your place of work. How you would play with and feed your cats before heading out for the day.

He also enjoyed the days where you went out with your friends to the mall to shop, or to a restaurant for girls night. He especially liked it when you and your girls went out for dinner. All the cute and godawful tiny dresses you found yourself wearing always just about make him lose his cool. The only thing he hated about girls night out was the fact that you knew you were sexy, meaning men swarmed around you like vultures, eyeing you like a piece of meat. It made him want to bend you over the nearest table and fuck you right in front of everyone.

Sukuna owned you, he just hasn't put the collar on you yet.

Tonight was one of those nights where you went out with your girlfriends. Your hair was done up all pretty and your makeup took you hours to perfect, but it was all worth it for the evil, thigh clasping presence you felt in the dark corner of the club you were in. Your glossy lips were a tint of pink and your cheeks matched the deep red of the short dress you were wearing. The familiar dark energy seemed to be radiating all around you, more than normal.

He knew you couldn't see him, but sukuna stood at that corner of the room, hidden away from all the humans, his eyes locked onto one. Sweat glistened on the top of your breasts, and your lips seemed more plump than normal. But the thing that was driving him crazy was the fact that one man couldn't seem to leave you alone. he kept coming up to you in desprate search of starting a conversation, shamelessly eyeballing your prominent curves and licking his lips. sukuna wanted to explode his head right then and there for trying to seduce his woman. And what pissed him off even more was the fact that you were actually playing into it.

You kept making small touches to the mans arm whenever he said something "funny" and you bit your lip whenever he complimented you. But sukuna knew that your laugh wasn't genuine and your smile was a fake. He knew the real you. Of course he did. He'd been stalking you for months, if not years. he made his claim a while ago, and he wasn't gonna let some scrawny low life steal his property with a couple sad jokes.

Your smile faltered just a hair when you felt the dark presence leave the club. It was almost like a warm blanket had been ripped off of you. Your eyes seemed to glaze over, which led the random man to ask if you were okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just feel sick for some reason" your response was an obvious lie, but apparently good enough for the man to believe.

"oh, are you alright, would you like a ride back to yours?" He asks, and to be completely honest, kinda made you cringe. Of course you didn't want a ride because the only reason you were talking to him was to make whatever was watching you jealous.

Sukuna found interest in you because of your innocence. But oh was he in for a surprise. You knew something had been following you, you knew it had been watching you whenever you touched yourself late at night. You've felt it since the very beginning.

its like you had your own curse.

You should have told somebody when the red flags started popping up out of nowhere; they started out small, ranging from your couch pillows being moved around, then progressed into things like your favorite pair of panties going missing, then to things that freaked you out, like waking up to your bedroom window being open in the morning even though you know for a fact that you had closed and locked it. You should have moved apartments. You should have done something when this started happening.

But you didn't. And it made you sick. Getting off on the fact that you knew you were being stalked by whatever was hunting you.

And the fact that you were upset that the mysterious darkness had left proves just how disgusting you actually are.

"guys, I think im gonna call a cab, I just got hit with a wave of sickness and I really just wanna go home and sleep" you told your friends after shooing off the man you had no interest in.

"omg girl are you okay? of course go home and rest im so sorry!" one of your friends said right after taking her 4th shot.

"yeah im fine, just not really feeling it"

"text me when you get home!"

Staring at the dark yet lively city lights flashing by you, you kept thinking about the little stalker you seem to have. You thought it was weird how turned on you got just from an energy, from a presence. You've never felt so.. needed. so, praised ?

No man, or woman. Has ever given you so much confidence, if that's the right word. And because of that, you've never felt another human beings intimate touch. You only want its touch. Whatever it is.

Sukuna knows what he does to you. He could basically see it radiating off of you. How much confidence you gained and how well you hold yourself. And he'd never been happier to be the one gifting you that grace. That's actually the main thing that peaked his interest about you. The way you held yourself throughout life. Nothing could stop you from getting what you want, and he admired that. It made him question himself at first, being so interested about a human being. It made him debate on keeping you alive. How dare a human make him question himself.

But that passed quickly the first time he'd seen your fingers fuck your pussy. it was delicious. he had to restrain himself from shattering your balcony door and fucking you stupid.

You felt it leaking through the cracks of your front door. It felt different than all the other times its followed you around and watched you throughout your life. It was stronger, and it turned you on so, so much more than normal.

You stood outside your apartment door debating on going inside. Your face was burning and your pussy was throbbing.

It felt like you were going absolutely insane, and it pissed you off not knowing what was making you into such a pathetic mess. With a deep breath, you opened your door only to be met with darkness aside from a few street lights illuminating your living room in a dull yellow.

You set your stuff on the couch before walking into your room, slinging your door open, you didn't even have to turn the light on to know that whatever it was, had decided to perch itself in your bed.

For the first time in years, you actually felt scared of whatever it was. Your whole demeanor changed in an instant, and it made sukuna chuckle.

That chuckle vibrated throughout your skull, straight down your core.

Wanting to fold in on yourself out of fear, but too turned on to do so; you walked in, closing the door behind you. Sukuna's eyes never leaving your much smaller frame.

Trying to hide the fact that almost your entire being is screaming at you to run away from the thing in front of you, you stand your ground.

"What are you?" You ask the figure you have yet to fully lay eyes on. All you're able to make out is a monster-like figure with four arms, two behind its head using them as a cushion against your headboard, and the other two resting on its thighs. Its legs are long and big, both of them spread apart, inviting you in, in the most almost taunting way imaginable. Its face is completely hidden in the dark, restricting you from seeing the cocky, shit eating grin plastered on its face.

"What a weird first question to ask, y/n."

Its voice sent chills down your spine, creating an even stronger pulse in your heart, and your clit. You involuntarily suck in a breath at the sound of its voice. Deep, husky and masculine. It's nothing like you've ever heard before, and it makes your skin crawl in excitement and fear.

He chuckles again at the gasp you let out. You stay in your spot, making sure to keep a safe distance away from him.

"Answer my question." The words left your throat as more of a command than anything else. Your eyes never leave his frame, even as he removes his arms behind his head and lean forward, crossing them across his chest. His eyes never leave your body either, drinking in the sight of your skimpy dress.

All he wants to do is burn it off of you and make you scream his name as you cream all over his cock, but that'll take a minute to happen, so he answers you instead.

"King of curses, my dear." His voice sending another wave of shivers coursing through your body. He stands, and your entire body starts screaming at you to run away. but despite that, you hold your ground, challenging the being in front of you.

He's at least over 7 feet tall, one set of arms still crossed over his chest, the other finds their way to rest on his hips.

"The name is Sukuna." You just about drop to your knees. not only is his voice is unbearable, but you've heard about him before. You never believed in ghosts, curses, spiritual beings, anything of the sort and you've never believed any of your friends or family members when they told you legends about the man standing before you, yet here you are. About to be torn apart by the king they've warned you about for so many years.

"Guess you've heard about me, hm?" You can't get your damn mouth to move or your throat to make any noise. Your eyes are as wide as planets and all you can do is take a shaky step back, mimicking his opposite step forward and towards you.

"Why- why are you here?" voice is shaking as you speak, your breathing is jagged, which is prominent in your stutter. Just as sukuna takes another step forward, his features are illuminated in the moonlight shining through your bedroom windows curtains. He's absolutely breathtaking, and not many people would say that.

I guess I really am fucked up huh

"oh y/n, don't play dumb now, doll." His grin never leaves his face and your eyes meet with his. He's scary in the best way possible, and it's making you want to wipe off that dumb grin by sitting on it.

"You're the one whose..." You take a moment to think, which is extremely hard when this monster starts stalking towards you ever so slowly, both sets of arms coming down to dangle by his sides. He tilts his head to the side and begins to hunch his back and bend over to get a closer look at you. The distance is closing in on the two of you, making you unintentionally walk backwards and into a wall.

The sudden feeling of the cold wall on your back makes you yelp in surprise, but you never look away. He hums at you, signaling you to finish your sentence.

"You're the one whose been watching me for so long.." You say under your breath. Chewing the skin on the bottom of your lip. Your hands clench into fists as he keeps getting closer and closer.

"don't act like you didn't enjoy my little haunting game, love. you do remember touching yourself just to the thought of me, right y/n?" His smug smile could be heard just by the tone of his voice. Your breathing deepens and he's stopped right in front of you, face to face with the thing that's been taking over your entire life for the past couple years. Your back would be disappearing into the wall if it weren't made out of sheetrock. He stands up fully and all you can do is stare straight ahead, looking directly in the center of his entire body. He's fucking huge. Letting out a shriveled breath, you close your eyes.

"Look at me, y/n."

You refuse to open your eyes, or even move in the slightest.

He gives you 15 seconds before one of his hands grips the base of your jaw and forces your face upwards to look at him, nails digging into the flesh of your rosy cheeks.

"I said, look at me." With a fearful yelp at the sudden contact, you force your eyes open and are met with the most sinful red eyes you could ever see in this lifetime.

"Good girl." He snickers at the petrified look that paints your face. Even though you look so scared, your eyes are clouded with so much lust. Sukuna can basically smell the arousal pooling in your panties and it's driving him up the wall. Without a word, he pins you in place, making no room for escape by pressing his one of his forearms against the wall above your head, another one finds its way trailing up your thigh.

You let out a desprate sigh at the contact of his fingers. He traces up the skin of your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps to trail behind until he's met with the flimsy fabric of your underwear and it takes him less than a fraction of a second to feel just how soaked you really are.

"You're disgusting." His voice somehow got an octave deeper, but who are you to complain? You whine at his words, following a louder whine as he starts to trace the slit of your pussy through your underwear. Sukuna's hand locks your head in place as you look up into his eyes as he pushes your underwear to the side and pinches your clit, his fingernails creating a painfully pleasurable feeling.

With a loud yelp, your hips buck forward. With his final free arm, he uses his hand to push your hips back against the wall, keeping you in one place.

"Stay still." He commands. His hand on your hip is locking you in place, so you have no option than to obey. His finger traces patterns on your clit and moans dance off your tongue as a result. His fingers pick up the pace and are now harshly massaging at your center.

"a-ah, slow ple-" Without stopping his brutal pace, sukuna lets go of your face and just before it can fall forward, he grips a handful of your hair and yanks it backwards roughly. your eyes to lock with his once more. A scream at the sudden pain erupts from the back of your throat.

"Don't tell me what to do, i'll use you how I please." Sukuna pulls his fingers away from your clit only to land a harsh slap on the bundle of nerves, making you yelp loudly and your body jolt in surprise. He slaps it a couple more times before forcing two of his fingers into your wet pussy.

Sukuna's fingers slide in with ease thanks to his assult on your clit. He was standing at such a close proximity to your body that when your back archesoff the wall, your stomach and chest meet his front. Just as your body meets his, he decides to let go of your hair, making your head fall forward and onto his center. Your hands instinctually reach up and wrap around his body, using him as leverage to keep yourself from falling. Your nails dig into his back as his fingers work wonders deep inside of you, all you can do is bury your head into him to suppress your noises.

His fingers pump in and out of your pussy, curling and twisting at all the right angles, fingering your core as if he's trying to tear you apart from the inside out. Wet sounds come from just below you, but neither of you seem to hear them because they're drowned out by your loud moans and whimpers of pleasure. Sukuna's eyes never leave your body as you come undone.

His now free hand that was once in your hair decides to hook under your thigh, picking it up and letting it dangle, helping get a better angle to fuck you with his fingers. Because of this newfound angle, your back and head hit the wall behind you once more, but your arms don't leave his body.

"Look at you, such a pretty girl. So fuckin' small I could break you so, so easily." Your nails scratch at his back like there is no tomorrow and all you can do as a response is whimper.

"su- kuna" Your hiccuped plea of his name is enough to know you're about to cum all over his fingers, but he wont let that happen just yet.

"say it, y/n" Sukuna says, his voice solid. You look up, tears welled in your eyes as you look into his and your voice breaks.

"Please can I cum, please k-una please please please" Your cheeks are a deep shade of red and your mouth is slightly ajar and oh does sukuna wanna fill up your pretty mouth and ruin that pretty pink lipgloss that stain your full lips.

Without another word, his smirk deepens and his chuckle vibrates inside your skull. He takes his fingers out of you, your juices now running down your thighs and you're pretty sure your panties are completely ruined thanks to the demon above you. Your eyes widen while you plea him to continue with a hushed whimper.

"Hush, little one" is all he says before one set of arms is gripping your thighs and hauling you into the air. Your legs wrap around his torso on instinct and your throat lets out a surprised squeal at his actions. Your hands come up and one of them grips his shoulder, the other rests in his hair. You're now face to face with sukuna and his eyes look deeply into yours. one of his other free hand's is tangled in your hair within a fraction of a second and is pulling you in to kiss him with so much force, it almost gives you whiplash.

Your tongue tangles with his and you let out another squeal of surprise right into his mouth when your back hits the cushioning of your bed. Sukuna is now on top of you, his torso flat against your heat. The hand that was once tangled in your hair is now trailing its way to your neck. Sukuna breaks the kiss and you go to lean forward in protest, but his huge hand wrapped around your neck stops you. Another hand rests on the headboard above you, and the two that were holding you up now rest at the top of your dress.

With brute force and in the blink of an eye, your once beautiful red dress and strapless braw are now being ripped off of you, tiny flames ignite from the freshly ripped seam for a just a fraction of a second. You gasp at the sudden action and Sukuna's glowing red eyes never falter to look at the reaction on your face. He laughs once more at just how jumpy you are. the cold air hits your skin, causing your nipples to grow hard and goosebumps form on your smooth skin. Sukuna grabs the dress and bra out from under you and throw the articles of clothing across the room to be forgotten, all while looking right at you. Once the dress is out of sight, you look up at him, your eyes half lidded with lust that are basically begging him to use you.

Sukuna smiles at how innocent, yet already fucked out you look and decides to lean down toward your breasts, taking one of your nipples and fondiling it inside of his warm mouth. His tongue laps at you and your hands fly to his hair, pulling it out of pleasure. His two free hands now rest at your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, to which you happily obliged. His mouth moves from your nipple and starts to suck at the skin of your breasts. His mouth trails from your chest, down to your stomach and abdomen, leaving deep purple marks and bites that will most likely be staying for days, if not weeks. Your whimpers are like music to Sukuna's ears which only make him want to make you scream his name.

The hand that rested on the headboard is now grabbing your hands from his hair and forcing them down onto the mattress above you and the set of hands that were on your thighs are on your hips. Your eyes dont leave his, even as he rips your panties and throws them in the same direction he did your other clothes, making you bare yourself completely to him.

His hands part your thighs once more and pins them down, holding you in place.

"So cute, so tiny. 'could just ruin you hm?" he speaks as he lowers his head down to your heat, his breath fanning your dripping pussy. Your breathing is even more uneven than before as it's mixed with your hushed moans. Without taking his eyes off yours, he sticks out his tongue and licks a stripe up your cunt, causing your jaw to slack open in the perfect "oh" shape as your whine rings inside sukuna's skull. He licks up your cunt a couple more times before it initially lands on your clit, then he buries his head into your thighs and nips at you like a dog in heat.

His mouth sucks, bites and laps at your clit, and you try with all your strength to buck your hips up, but to no avail, the hands on your thighs pin you in place as your arms are basically unuseful. All you can do is throw your head back in pleasure as this creature devoures you. His grip on your throat tightens a little more and suddenly it's more difficult to breathe, but you dont even care.

Sukuna's saliva mixes in with your fluids that run down your thighs and asscheeks, wetting the bed under you. His long tongue fucks itself inside your pussy and against your walls as his teeth drag across your clit. Sukuna doesn't look away from you, not for a second. He wants to see every twist on your face and flex of your abs as he eats you out, he's desperately and intensively observing you, as if you were the most beautiful, treasurable piece of art he's ever layed eyes on. His tongue is rough as he creates a rhythm of fucking your insides, and sucking your bundle of nerves.

Your arms tug at the restraint of his hands holding your wrists. He's so much stronger than you, yet that fact alone turns you on so much more. Your moans and hushed screams fill the room as small beads of sweat gather on your hairline. Your body twitches under sukuna's control and your clit is throbbing for release as he toys with you.

You're so close to finishing and sukuna can tell so easily. Your moans grow into louder screams and your back arches off the bed. His grip on your throat tightens, cutting off all supply of air and your eyes are thrown open as you choke and cough, trying to get any oxygen possible.

Sukuna laughs into your pussy, which vibrates through your whole body. Your eyes look down into his, desperately trying to tell him to let you cum, or breathe. Whichever one he will let you do. Your silent plea only turns him on even more and your vision is starting to blacken and your head begins to feel light.

"Fuck, you're so adorable when you're beggin' for your life" He says as he sits up and hovers over you, refusing to let you finish. The hand on your throat disappears and you cough and gasp for air, but just as you suck in a deep breath, its knocked out of you by a harsh slap to your face and all you can do is gasp in pain at the sudden stinging on your cheek. He grips your face directly after with the hand he had previously slapped you with and forces you to look down at your pussy.

One of the hands on your thighs moves up to your cunt and plunges inside you. Two of Sukuna's fingers thrust inside your cunt at lightning speed and curl up into your center, hitting that spot you need him most. You choke out a scream and your hips grind into his palm.

"Look at the mess you're making y/n. Such a nasty little girl you are." He says as he looks at your pretty face contorting from the overstimulation he brings upon you.

Sukuna's fingers are relentless as they move fast inside of you. Not even a couple seconds later, you're cumming all over his hand and arm, squirting your fluids all over him as well as your bed sheets. You come undone with a scream.

"K-kuna oh my god!" You're being so loud, you could almost bet the neighbors across the street could hear. Neither of you cared though, all you cared about was how you were about to be torn in half.

Your eyes are watery again and you're still desperately trying to gather air in your lungs. Sukuna's hands let go of your wrists and face, but right after, you hear an article of clothing rip. You sit up slightly in wonder, but your mouth instantly hangs open at the sight of two handsomely large cocks sprung up, hitting just above Sukuna's belly button. Your mouth instantly dried at the sight.

Speaking of sights, Sukuna thought you were a beautiful one. Your hair was a shriveled mess and your face was the most gorgeous shade of red. You looked so fucked out, yet so ready to take anything he gives you like the obedient whore you are. You had a look of fear and interest plastered on your face. Sukuna was never one for love or anything of the sort, but the moment he layed his eyes on you those couple years ago, he knew he was fucked. You were just so different than most of the humans he had ever made contact with. You didn't care about the difference between "good and bad" and you always took what you wanted without second thought, even if it took you a while to grasp. You were always ready for whatever was thrown at you and were always in control of everything around you.

That's why he decided to stick around. Since the beginning, he's wanted to corrupt your world and fuck up your flow of control. He was arrogant and cocky. You just needed someone, or something, to step in and take control over you. And sukuna was never going to let anybody else besides him take control over his woman.

Though he would never admit it out loud, you were breathtaking. You're also the only reason he hasn't burned this world to the ground,,,, completely.

"Think you can take em'?" Sukuna's voice never fails to make a shiver run up your spine. You don't answer him, all you do is stare into his eyes, a silent plea to just have him use you however he pleases. He takes your lack of an answer and laughs quietly under his breath. He brings one of his hands to his face, and smiles into his palm.

"you're gonna be the death of me."

His body slowly stalks towards you, crawling onto the bed, trapping your body between his and the headboard. Your thighs rub together in desprate search of friction. You can't take it any longer, you need him inside you. You need every part of this being in any way you can have him.

"I don't care if you think you can take my cocks' or not, I'll force you to take em' how bout that, yeah?" His head tilts as he speaks and one of his hands grips your leg and pulls your body down farther onto the bed, causing you to lay down underneath his much larger body.

"You're so- so big kuna.." Your voice is uncontrolled and small. Unlike earlier where your screams and moans were ear piercing and just so delicious. Your eyes look up into his, your hands sneak up to wrap around one set of his arms, squeezing his biceps as you chew on the skin of the inside of your cheek.

Sukuna groans at your words. He really was huge, trapping your body underneath his. One of his hands grips the headboard, another comes down to grip the side of your face. His thumb traces your bottom lip, smearing your lipgloss.

Just as you open your mouth, his thumb presses down on your tongue as you suck in his finger. One of your hands makes its way down his body, gripping one of his huge cocks in your small hand. Despite the size difference, Sukuna still hisses in response. You pump his hard dick a couple times, looking directly into his eyes as you suck on his thumb. With painful force, sukuna grips your wrists and suddenly, both your hands above your head once more.

With one hand gripping the headboard, one holding your wrists in place, another moves from your mouth to grip one of his dicks while the final hand holds himself up, hovering right above you. You whine at the lack of control you have, grinding your hips upwards as a sign to let you go, but all sukuna does is laugh at your attempts of escape.

"Stop moving, slut." He pushes one of his dicks at your pussys entrance, but you don't listen to him, you grind your hips upwards once more and Sukuna doesn't seem to like that very much.

"Told you to stop movin' brat" and without warning, or any lube (as if you needed any) he pushes one of his cocks into your pussy with full force. It has you automatically screaming at the stretch. It's painful and you're pretty sure you're bleeding.

Sukuna bottoms out inside of you and stills, the outline of his dick prominant through your stomach, it drives him insane.

Sukuna uses his now free hand and pushes down on the outline of his cock through your tummy and chuckles.

"Fuck you're so small y/n, look at your tummy baby" You obey him and look down, seeing the outline of his huge dick bulging in your abdomen. A scared moan leaves your lips as you take in the sight. It literally looks like he could split you in half at any given moment. Sukuna pulls his dick out, a painful sensation radiates through your vagina as he does. The bulge in your tummy disappears and sukuna's face falters into one of disappointment.

"fuck, you're bleedin' y/n! " sukuna says to you, and just as you're about to look for yourself, he thrusts his dick back inside you, filling you back up again. He bottoms out inside you and a strangled moan that sounds more like a cough forces its way out of your throat.

"full- im so full, too full please-" Sukuna's face turns into one of disappointment again at your words as he says

"that's too bad, I wasn't even close to being finished with stuffin' you doll." He mocks you, and just as he finishes talking, you feel his second cock at the entrance of your ass, which causes you to shoot your head up.

"No, no please dont" you beg him, despite your words not being how you really feel, you beg him not to anyways. sukuna's face is still one that mocks you, pretending as if he feels bad for splitting you open. He pushes his tip into your ass so slowly it almost makes this situation better. The stretch is unbearable, especially with how tight you are with another cock spreading you open and filling you already.

Sukuna's entire tip is stuffed inside, waiting for you to adjust to his length.

"Look at you, taking me so well. Such a good little girl aren't you?" His voice is taunting you. Your arms feel weak from how much you've been struggling to break free, so all you can do I lay there and adjust to his cocks with hushed moans.

Sukuna starts moving his cock deeper inside you slowly, but not slow enough.

"Kuna please no, it's too much I can't take it" Your head shakes from side to side as painful tears fall from your eyes and down your cheeks. Sukuna pouts at this and leans down and uses his tongue to lick the tears away.

"you can take it, you're already doing such a good job for me." This reassurance helps you a little more, and with every inch growing deeper inside you, you find it hard to breathe, and sukuna notices.

He leans down and whispers deeply into your ear

"breathe my dear."

you listen to him and take deep breaths. In one particular deep breath, sukuna takes it upon himself to completely push the other half of his cock into you, getting it done in one swift motion just as you breathe out.

His actions cause you to scream in pain,,, and in pleasure. More tears fall from your eyes. Sukuna doesn't even give you time to adjust this go around, he just can't wait any longer.

"fuck, takin' my cocks' so well, you're so fuckin' tight, couldn't help myself" Sukuna says into your ear.

Your ass feels so tight as he thrusts in and out of both your stretched holes. the pain subsides into pleasure after a couple strokes and your painful hisses turn into sickening moans.

The sound of skin slapping echos off the walls of your dark room, the only light source being the moonlight shining through your window. Your pussy feels like it's going to burst every time sukuna's dicks thrust back inside you.

Sukuna's grip on your bed frame is so tight, the wood crumbles in his hand

"fuck" He curses under his breath

He needs to grip onto something, anything, so he decided to harshly grip the sheets that lay right next to your head. He looks from your face, down to your pussy where he sees his cocks move in and out of you, stretching you so beautifully.

When he looks back up at you, your teary, half lidded eyes lock onto his. You dont break eye contact, even as you moan out his name like a chant that dances off your tongue straight into his ears. And he loves it.

Your walls squeeze his dick's like you're trying to milk him dry. He's even surprised both of them fit inside you.... as if he didn't literally force them to fit.

"Please please let me touch you, just wan' touch please kuna' please" you moan out, begging him to let go of your arms. Much to his objection, he lets you go.

Your arms instantly wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin as you pull your bodies closer together. Your boobs press up against his broad chest as your sweat rubs into his skin.

Two of his arms hold his body up on his forearms above your head now, the other is pinning your stomach to the bed, the feeling of his dick entering and exiting your pussy being felt through your tummy.

his last free hand finds its way to the small of your back, his arm wrapping around your body and pressing you somehow closer against his. Your face is directly into his chest as you moan and scream out his name as his thrusts become wicked and fast, his hips snapping against yours. Your legs spread out for him to take advantage of you.

Sukuna looks down at you buried into his chest, his body hot and sweaty. Your nails scratching daggers into his back, you're pretty sure you can feel blood under your fingernails.

With each thrust inside you, your moans are choked and jagged and it's hard to breathe. The coil in your tummy is about to burst and you feel like you could explode from just how full you really were. Everything was too much, yet so perfect. Sukuna felt as if he was going to burst too, everything was so hot and wet, it was only driving him even more insane.

Your screams grew louder with each stroke of his cocks, signaling to sukuna that you were close.

"want me to come inside you? full you up and breed you like a dumb fuckin whore, turn you into a mommy?" He asks you, and all you can do is shake your head.

"you're gonna take my cum weather you want to or not, understand? Fill you up so nice nd' warm" He bares his teeth as you scream his name..

"no, no please dont I can't handle it, too full please k-una!" He doesn't like this answer, and it causes him to groan through his teeth. With a set of his arms, he grips your waist harshly, and with the other, he's stabilizing himself on the bed above you and sits up slightly.

"I dont care what you want, you're gonna take whatever I give you." he says before pulling his cocks out and flipping you onto your tummy. Your yelp of surprise is cut short as your hands grip at the sheets above you, trying to pull your body up and away from the monster.

"ah ah ah, dont run away from me, im nowhere close to being done with you." Sukuna stands up at the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor. He grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge where he stands. He lets go of your ankles and roughly grips your hips, pulling you up and slightly into the air. He forces your knees down into the mattress, your ass up and your face in your sheets. His hands remain on your hips as another one of his hands finds a handful of your hair, gripping and pulling your head upwards and next to his chest, forcing you into a painful arch.

Sukuna bends over so his face is next to your ear. His long tongue licks your neck, and up to the lobe of your ear just before he bites it, your moan in exchange.

"now shut up and let me ruin you" is all he says before forcing your face down into your sheets, one of his hands pressing your head down into the mattress.

Sukuna thrusts his cocks into your holes once more, resulting in a muffled scream coming out of your mouth, but he doesn't move. his hips flush against your ass. Sukuna lifts one hand from your hips and lands a harsh smack on your ass, leaving your skin red. Your walls tighten around his cocks.

so he does it again

and again

and again

over and over and over until you're creaming all over his cock and squirting all over your bed once more with more muffled screams.

"pathetic. squirting all over my cock with just a few slaps to your ass. how disgusting could you possibly get?" He mocks you again, landing one more painful slap to your ass as your liquids drip down your thighs and onto the mattress below you. He grabs the flesh of your ass with both of his hands and slowly pulls his dicks out of you, the empty felling in your tummy has you begging for him to fill you back up.

sukuna's face twists into one of interest as he hears your whines of protest.

"oh? what a little slut I have on my hands. and here I thought you truly didn't want me to tear you apart" he says as he thrusts his cocks deep back inside you, hitting your sweet spot that has you squealing ever so loudly. Your hands above your head painfully grip the sheets, your nails digging into your palms drawing blood. His thrusts are endless and with each one, he grows deeper inside of you. He uses one of his hands and rakes his nails down your back, scratching at your skin. It was a painfully blissful feeling that had your walls squeezing his cocks so tight, it causes sukuna to curse under his breath.

With a chuckle, he says

"you're so fukin' tight, im gonna fill you up so full, so swollen with my baby, you'll forever be marked as mine, you'd like that huh?" of course sukuna was lying, he would never ever want to reproduce, but the way you're milking his cocks is making him reconsider his entire opinion on that subject.

His thrusts grow faster and stronger, your pussy and ass flutter around his dicks so prettily, he can see it whenever he looks at your holes. You moan his name over and over again, like it's the only thing you know how to say.

The knot in your abdomen kept getting tighter and tighter every time he hit your sweet spot, you were so close to finishing and all you could do is yearn for sukuna to carry you to the finish line. So that's exactly what he did.

The hand holding your head down into the mattress disappeared, so you turned your head to the side, resting your cheek against the mattress, your eyes find his and oh fuck

oh good god

sukuna lost it

he threw his head back with a loud moan and tightened his grip on your hips so intensely he felt your skin break from under him, his nails digging into your flesh as blood ran down your legs, pooling on the sheets, staining his fingertips.

You had a puddle of drool where your face lays. your lips were bleeding from biting down on them so roughly, and your eyes. oh fuck your eyes were so perfect. it was as if sukuna could read a whole book just by looking into your eyes.

Just as he was about to finish, you came all over him once more, wetting the bed, soaking it really. Your walls fluttered all around him like the butterflies in your stomach. as you came, sukuna shot warm ropes of cum straight into your ass and tummy, so full it was leaking out of both your holes. but it wasn't enough.

It wasn't enough for sukuna.

In the middle of both your orgasms, he resumed his thrusts, but your body gave out and you collapsed on the mattress, your stomach hitting the wet bedding.

your body couldn't move, you became putty in his hands and you had no complaints.

sukuna cursed as he crawled over you, his dicks never leaving your walls. one of his arms snaked its way under your arm to grip your throat, another one held your tummy, another spread your legs enough for him to continue fucking you, and the last one held him up.

His hips met your asscheeks in a monsteristic rhythm, a burning sensation beginning to form on your flesh. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your jaw layed slack open, drool running down your chin.

he was fucking his cum into you, making your soul intertwine with his in more ways than one. He fucked you through your next and final orgasm, your legs shook involuntarily as your guys' mixed cum got everywhere. it dripped down sukuna's cock, onto the mattress, between your thighs, onto his abdomen, all over your asscheeks, it was everywhere.

Your eyes closed, even as his thrusts continued, your mind faded away from your body and before you fully lost consciousness, you could hear sukuna's words ring through your ears.

"Ill see you soon, y/n."

[hoshifighting]

idk if someone asked you this but i’m a new reader and I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS!!!

can you please make wonwoo, the nerdy president who u thought was innocent and sweet but he’s the one behind ur fave nsfw audio creator???? AND HE’S A HARDFUCKER.. not what u expected tho..

i don’t know if i make sense but please pretty please 😭☝️

Synopsis: where you discover that the nerdy class president is the one man who creates the most nasty NSFW audios that you spend long nights listening to. WC: 2.8k WARNINGS: smut, audio porn, masturbation, hard fuck, dirty talk (obviously), bad sleeping habits (because of wonwoo), fingering, spanking, dirty talk, pussy eating, penetrative sex, protected sex, wonwoo whining, a lil invasion of privacy.

you’ve been running on fumes all day, the hazy buzz of sleep deprivation clinging to your brain like static. it’s no surprise, really. your night had gone the way it always does: you got home, flopped into your chair, threw on your headphones, and let onyx_lens—your favorite nsfw asmr creator—drag you under with that stupidly deep voice of his.

it was kind of pathetic, actually. you barely remember what the script was about—something about obedience or whatever—but you do remember the sound of his voice sinking into your brain like warm honey, making you cum so hard that you blacked the fuck out right after. now here you were, bleary-eyed and trying to stay upright in literature class, the regret of last night’s poor choices catching up with you.

wonwoo, the class president who was somehow both effortlessly chill and annoyingly observant, had been glancing at you every few minutes. you could feel his eyes on you as your head dipped forward for the third time, only to snap back up like a busted bobblehead.

but, in true wonwoo fashion, he didn’t say anything. no scolding, no judgmental sighs—just quiet observation.

when class finally ended, you were ready to yeet yourself into a nap for a solid 72 hours. you were shoving your stuff into your bag when wonwoo’s voice cut through the noise.

“you good?”

you froze. his voice wasn’t the same as onyx_lens’s, obviously, but it had that same deep, smooth timbre that made your brain short-circuit for a second. it didn’t help that his question sounded so much like something out of an nsfw script. you turned to face him, hoping your face wasn’t giving away how flustered you suddenly were. “uh—yeah,” you said, shaking your head a little too quickly. “just tired.”

wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “not sleeping well?”

your brain screamed. your tired, half-horny brain screamed louder. the overlap of his voice and onyx_lens in your head was un-fucking-bearable. you managed to nod, muttering something about late nights and deadlines, hoping he wouldn’t pry.

he didn’t, but his next question wasn’t much better.

“think you could help me with the sci-fi project? your last lit analysis was good, and i could use the extra pair of hands.”

you blinked at him. “me?”

he nodded, adjusting his glasses. “you. unless you’re too busy with...whatever’s keeping you up.”

oh, you mean my nightly sessions with onyx_lens and my vibrator?

you swallowed hard and tried to play it cool. “nah, i can help.”

and that’s how you found yourself standing outside wonwoo’s apartment later that evening, clutching your bag. his place was exactly what you’d expect from him—minimalist, neat, and smelling faintly of coffee.

“come in,” he said, holding the door open for you. “make yourself comfortable.”

easier said than done. you perched awkwardly on his couch as he set up his laptop on the coffee table, your eyes darting around the room in an attempt to ignore how nice his voice sounded in person.

“so,” he began, sitting across from you, “any ideas for the project?”

you cleared your throat, trying to focus. “uh, maybe something about robots and humanity? like, exploring ethical dilemmas or something.”

wonwoo nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your skin heat. “good idea. we could tie that into the main themes from class.”

he leaned forward slightly, scrolling through a document on his laptop, and you couldn’t help but notice how his glasses slipped down his nose. you were so not prepared for this level of proximity or his stupidly deep voice.

“you okay?” he asked again, glancing at you.

you blinked, realizing you’d been staring. “yeah, just...thinking.”

his lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. “good. let me know if you need a break or...anything.”

the way he said anything sent a shiver down your spine. you weren’t sure if it was exhaustion, residual arousal from last night, or the sheer presence of wonwoo in his element, but your brain was a mess.

you were supposed to be helping him with this project, but all you could think about was the way his voice would sound whispering in your ear, saying things that would make onyx_lens blush.

you were so close to winning the “most pathetic college student of the year” award it wasn’t even funny. after much back-and-forth with wonwoo, class president of your downfall, you somehow convinced him to let you walk home alone. except the man still went all soft and paid for a taxi anyway, which, like… thanks? but also stop being so nice, what the hell.

it was nearing 11 p.m. when you got home, and as if on cue, your phone pinged with a notification: onyx_lens’s weekly live is starting.

you stared at it for a second, blinking in disbelief. today’s theme? "neon circuits and orgasm denial (a cyberpunk experience) 8d audio"

sci-fi-themed. of fucking course.

you almost laughed at the audacity of the universe for this one. was this some sort of cosmic joke? was wonwoo onyx_lens?! no way. no goddamn way. you shook off the thought as delulu nonsense and dragged yourself to the bathroom for a quick sponge bath.

by the time you flopped into your chair, headphones on, the live was already in full swing. that voice—that stupidly deep, velvety voice—flooded your ears as the chat buzzed with unhinged comments. onyx purred, and you were done for.

you couldn’t even focus on the sci-fi plot he was spinning, something about rogue androids, monster cock, neon vibrators and human experimentation. his voice wrapped around you like a silk chokehold, and you were gone—just a vibrating mess in your chair, coming undone embarrassingly fast.

fast forward to the next morning: you woke up feeling like a used dishrag. again. headphones still on, your phone dead, and the memory of last night’s live replaying in your brain like a broken record.

by the time you dragged yourself to class, you were running on fumes and vibes. your hoodie was scrunched up around your face, making you look like a cross between a gremlin and an overgrown baby.

wonwoo noticed. you could feel his eyes boring into you as you tried—and failed—to stay upright. you were so close to just giving in and laying flat on the floor. honestly, it might’ve been comfier than your chair at that point.

wonwoo, sitting two rows away, looked like he was internally debating whether to intervene or let you rot in peace. when the bell rang, you startled awake like you’d been electrocuted, nearly knocking your stuff off your desk in the process.

“you okay?” he asked, falling into step beside you as you shuffled out of the classroom like a zombie.

“i’m fine,” you mumbled, voice muffled by your hoodie. “just need food. like, now.”

you detoured to the convenience store on the way to his apartment, snagging an entire kimbap roll and tearing into it like a starving animal. wonwoo followed behind, holding your water bottle with a look that was equal parts judgment and amusement.

“you couldn’t wait?” he asked, watching as you ate half the roll in one bite.

“bro,” you said around a mouthful of rice, “if i didn’t eat this, i was gonna pass out on the cold asphalt. your problem now, mr. class president.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, just handed you your water like the reluctant babysitter he was.

this was going to be a long afternoon.

you couldn’t help yourself. the suspicion had been eating away at you for weeks now, ever since you first heard his voice in class and that nagging sense of déjà vu set in. wonwoo had escaped to the bathroom, and you had the perfect opportunity to snoop.

your fingers hovered over his notebook, but then your gaze darted back to your own screen. back and forth, back and forth. his notebook. yours. the coincidences were piling up like a conspiracy wall in your head. the voice, the specific vocabulary choices, even the cadence—how did i not notice this earlier?!

“fuck it,” you whispered to yourself, grabbing his notebook and quickly pulling up the site where you normally streamed your favorite asmr creator. just to check. just to confirm your theory.

your heart pounded as the site loaded, every second dragging like molasses. the channel page opened, and at first, it seemed normal. too normal. you almost clicked away, feeling stupid for even suspecting anything.

but then you saw it: edit profile. analytics.

your breath caught, and a sharp scoff escaped you as you crossed your arms. oh, my god. the realization hit you like a freight train. it’s him. wonwoo. class president. sci-fi nerd. “how the fuck did i not notice?” you muttered, half impressed by his audacity.

you were so lost in your spiraling thoughts that you didn’t hear him return—until his voice, practically kissed your earlobe.

“what. do. you. think. you. are. doing?”

you jumped so hard your knee slammed into the underside of the desk. whipping around, you found wonwoo standing over you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tight.

“uh—nothing?” you stammered, trying to slam your laptop shut, but his hand darted out and stopped you.

“‘nothing’ doesn’t look like you snooping through my computer,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

your cheeks burned. “okay, fine, maybe i was curious—”

“you were curious?” his tone sharpened. “curious enough to invade my privacy?”

“invade your—bro, you’re literally whispering dirty robot sex fantasies to the entire internet. how is that private?”

“that’s different!” his ears flushed a deep red, and you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. “that’s content. this—this is personal.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “oh, please. you’re mad i figured it out. admit it.”

he leaned closer, towering over you now, his hand pressing down on the desk beside you. “what do you want, huh? blackmail? are you gonna tell everyone?”

you laughed, loud and incredulous. “tell everyone?! dude, relax. i’m not gonna expose your little side hustle. besides…” you smirked, tilting your head to look up at him. “you should be thanking me. clearly, i’m a fan.”

wonwoo’s eyes darkened, and his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. 

“you’re a what?” he asks, your pulse skyrocketing as he stepped even closer, crowding you against the chair.

“did i stutter?” you whispered, the challenge clear in your tone.

his mouth crashed onto yours, teeth and tongue and frustration. you barely had time to process it before he was yanking you out of the chair, his hands rough as they gripped your hips and spun you around.

“you want to act like a brat,” he growled into your ear, his voice so reminiscent of his asmr persona that it made you roll your eyes back slighty, “then you’re gonna get treated like one.”

he bent you over the desk, the cold surface pressing against your chest as he yanked down your college skirt and underwear at once. his fingers slid through your folds, already slick just from being around him.

“so fucking wet,” he muttered, almost to himself. “you get off on this, don’t you? knowing it’s me.”

“shut your mouth,” you gasped, but it came out more like a moan as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them and pressing them hard on your front wall.

“make me,” he challenged, his other hand coming down sharply on your ass. the sting made you gasp, your hips jerking against his hand as you tense on the desk.

the pace of his fingers was relentless, his thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts. every part of your body was starting to be feveirsh, and you hated—hated—how easily he was unraveling you. you spent nights thinking about how it would be if onyx fucked you, and here you are. of course you would be a mess in a second.

“sorry” he mocked you. “am i too much for you?”

you clenched around his fingers, your nails digging into the desk as you tried to hold back a moan. “you talk too fucking much actually wonwoo,” you hissed.

“yeah, that's what's paying me at nights” wonwoo chuckled darkly, pulling his fingers out and flipping you onto your back with his big arms. before you could protest, he was kneeling between your legs, his mouth suddenly hot and insistent against your core, better than any other vibrator you insisted on using at night.

the sounds—the wet, obscene sounds of his tongue—mixed with your whimpers as he devoured you like a man starved. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation.

“stop—”

“stop?” he looked up, his chin glistening. “not until you admit i’m your favorite.”

you glared down at him, breathless and defiant. “you’re such an asshole.”

“and yet…” he smirked, diving back in and flicking his tongue against your clit until your head fell back, a broken moan spilling from your lips.

it didn’t take long before you were coming undone, your body shaking as his mouth pulled your clit. wonwoo didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, dragging out your orgasm until you were a trembling, incoherent chaos beneath him.

wonwoo doesn’t waste a second after pulling back, his hands flipping you over again so you’re bent over the desk, your cheek pressed to the cool surface as he grinds against you. the thick outline of his cock rubs against your dripping folds, still covered by the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants. you gasp, your hips jerking back involuntarily, and his pearly-white smile flashes above you.

“look at that,” he murmurs, almost smug, as a dark spot begins to spread on his sweatpants from your slick. “you’re soaking me through.”

the way he emphasizes the word makes your back contort in shivers, but you’re too far gone to care. your fingers claw at the desk as he keeps humping against you, his pace quickening. when he finally pulls back, you hear the shuffle of fabric as he yanks down his sweatpants and briefs. the soft clink of a drawer opening catches your attention, and you crane your neck to see him sliding on a condom.

“you’re still melting all over my desk,” he rubs a hand over the curve of your ass. “can’t even wait for me, huh?”

before you can respond, his hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you gasp. he doesn’t stop, spanking you again and again until your skin is flushed and burning.

“you look so pretty like this,” he says, his hand smoothing over the heated skin before gripping your waist and lining himself up. “all messy and desperate for me.”

when he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch until you’re full and breathless, pussy trying to clench at his big grith to adjust. wonwoo groans, his head falling forward as he sinks in to the hilt.

your walls flutter around him, and he moans at the feeling, the sound so real and raw that it sends a jolt straight to your core.

“talk to me,” you manage to gasp, your voice muffled against the desk.

he chuckles, his pace picking up as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “you want me to talk dirty? you want me to tell you how tight you are? how good you’re taking me?”

you moan in response, your hips bucking back against him as his words send you curling.

“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he continues, his voice thick with lust. your moans grow louder, and he suddenly remembers the videos you must’ve listened to—the whining, the moaning. the thought makes his stomach flip, and he decides to give you exactly what you want.

he starts letting out soft whimpers, his voice breaking with each thrust, the sounds spilling out almost involuntarily. “fuck, babe, you’re gonna make me cum—”

the genuine desperation in his voice drives you wild, and your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper. he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave marks, but you don’t care.

“please,” he moans, his voice high and strained. “let me cum for you. let me—fuck—”

you push back against him, meeting his thrusts as your own climax builds, your breaths coming in short, broken gasps. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies moving together, and the tension snaps all at once.

you come hard, your body shaking as you cry out, and wonwoo isn’t far behind. his hips stutter, a guttural moan escaping him as he spills into the condom, his body trembling with the force of it.

he collapses over you, his chest heaving against your back as you both try to catch your breath. after a moment, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his voice still hoarse as he murmurs, “guess i’m a little better live, hm?”

you just let out a defeated moan, the coldness of the table soothing your hot cheeks.

“keep quiet about this, and i'll keep giving you more.” well, it's just an excuse that wonwoo said to fuck you over again.

[kateschi]

through the cold, with you

synopsis: amid the biting cold of patrol, katsuki finds his own way to keep you warm.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: was listening to a song and it went "i would burn my words to warm you up" and i want that kinda devotion tbh

the night air is sharp, biting at your skin as you walk through the quiet streets on patrol. the chill settles into your bones, making your fingers stiff and your nose go numb.

you pull your jacket tighter, but it feels like the cold is winning, no matter what you do.

beside you, katsuki strides ahead, his steps purposeful and his posture as commanding as ever. he doesn’t seem bothered by the weather at all.

you try to shake off the discomfort, but the cold is relentless, seeping through your clothes and making it harder to focus.

you force your steps to keep in line with his, but your movements are slower now. every breath feels like it could be your last.

he doesn’t even notice. or so you think.

another few minutes pass, and you feel your teeth start to chatter.

you glance over at katsuki, his fiery gaze locked straight ahead, his usual scowl firmly in place. h

e’s always been the type to push through anything—cold, pain, exhaustion—and now, it feels like the wind is just another enemy to him.

you, on the other hand, are starting to feel the weight of it all.

just as you’re about to speak up, to mention that you’re starting to freeze, katsuki stops walking without warning. his shoulders tense, and you can hear his breath cut through the air.

you blink in confusion as he turns to face you, his eyes narrowing slightly as they sweep over your figure, taking in the subtle signs of discomfort you hadn’t voiced aloud.

“you good?” he asks, voice still rough but softer than usual. his eyes linger on you for a moment, like he’s waiting for you to admit something, to ask for help.

but he doesn’t push.

you hesitate. he’s been protective of you since you first got together, but there’s a difference between that and actually asking for help.

you try to brush it off, giving him a small smile. “yeah, just a little cold. I’ll be fine.”

katsuki eyes you skeptically. “bullshit.”

you don’t have time to react before he steps toward you. before you even realize what’s happening, his hand is reaching for the collar of your coat.

his fingers brush against your skin as he unzips your jacket without a word, then pulls off the heavy scarf wrapped around his neck.

you open your mouth to protest, but before you can say anything, katsuki is already wrapping it around you, tightening it just enough to offer some protection against the cold.

you blink at him, confused. “katsuki, what—”

“shut up,” he mutters, cutting you off. he adjusts the scarf so it fits snugly around your neck, tucking the ends in carefully. “you’re freezing, and I’m not having you catch a cold.”

he steps back, his hand brushing against your shoulder as he assesses his work.

then, without another word, he reaches into his bag and pulls out a thermos—when the hell did he put that in? “here,” he says gruffly, holding it out toward you.

you take it from him, still caught in the bewilderment of what just happened. the warm liquid inside is a welcome relief to your frozen fingers as you take a sip.

katsuki watches you for a moment, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. it’s like he’s silently making sure you’re okay, his watchful eyes never leaving you.

“better?” he asks, his tone a bit soft. there’s something protective in his voice, the kind of thing you never used to hear from him. you take another sip of the drink, nodding.

“yeah, much better. thanks.”

he huffs, his lips twitching in that small, familiar smirk that only you get to see. “you better be, or I’ll drag you back home and shove you under a heater myself.”

you laugh, the sound warmer than it’s been in the last hour. his eyes soften for a second, and for a moment, you swear you catch a flicker of something affectionate in them before it’s gone.

it’s like he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but there’s no mistaking the care he’s showing.

you glance up at him as the silence stretches, a little unsure of what to say next. but he’s already taking a step forward again, his body language a silent invitation for you to follow.

“come on,” he says, his voice commanding as ever. “let’s get this patrol over with.”

you start walking beside him again, feeling the warmth of the scarf wrap around your neck like a promise.

the cold is still there, but it’s manageable now. it’s bearable. and, somehow, his presence seems to push it away, too.

you can feel the heat from his side, the way his body radiates strength, and the knowledge that he’s always looking out for you, even when he doesn’t say it out loud.

as you walk beside him, you try to ignore the soft smile that’s tugging at the corners of your lips.

he might act like he doesn’t care much for these things—gestures of affection, quiet acts of love—but he shows it in his own way. and, in the end, that’s all that matters.

katsuki steps forward again, his arm sliding around your waist and pulling you into his chest with surprising force.

“stop shivering, damn it,” he mutters, the rough edge in his voice doing nothing to hide the concern underneath. his body heat surrounds you as he keeps you pressed close, his hand firm against your back.

you stiffen for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the sudden proximity, but his warmth is undeniable. your body relaxes against his, letting the heat from him seep into you.

there’s something comforting in the way he holds you, like he’s willing to bear all the cold, so you don’t have to.

you tilt your head up slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, which is softer than usual. his face is still serious, but you can see the care in his eyes, the way he’s watching you closely.

for a second, the two of you just stand there, his arms wrapped around you, your body pressed against his.

“and—uh you’re welcome,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

his gaze softens, just slightly, before he turns back and starts walking again, already heading toward the next stretch of their patrol.

a grin makes its way up your face, and it makes your husband blush furiously and press a firm kiss on the top of your head. he is trying to hide—you know that much.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[katz-rambles]

Aphrodisiac sex with Viktor has taken over my brain. So I'm gonna write about it 🤭.

My first Arcane fic!! Wooo!! I hope I wrote his character well!

(nsfw, fem!reader, use of aphrodisiacs, alcohol mentioned, masturbation, oral (fem and male receiving), dom-ish!reader, sub-dom!Viktor, Viktors a tease, friends to lovers?, I think this is it!)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚₊‧꒰

The night started out normal, enough. You went out with some friends for a nice girls night out filled with drinks and gossip, and it was an amazing night. You're relatively tipsy by the time everyone is ready to go home, it's about half past midnight, and the only thing you can think about is going to bed. That is until, about half way home. A sudden spark flows through your veins, creating a dull fog in your mind. Maybe you had a bit more to drink than you thought you did.

You've decided to walk a tad bit quicker to get home. A small apartment in the downtown of Piltover, it's a nice size and not too expensive, especially since you're sharing it, and the fact that there's only one bedroom inside just adds to the fact. You're just glad that Viktor doesn't mind sharing a bed.

You have to fumble with your keys for an embarrassing amount of time before you can actually unlock the door. It's silent inside the apartment, there's no sign that Viktor has already come home. Although, that wouldn't surprise you, ever since he and Jayce started to work on the Hextech, you've been seeing less and less of him in your shared apartment.

You push off a shower until the morning, it can wait a few more hours, it's too late. When you enter the bedroom, you almost scream when your eyes focus well enough to see someone sitting at the small desk in the room. So he is home, you rub your temples and sigh. He’s always staying up late. You don't want him to hurt his back, more than he already has, by being in such an awkward position all night. So you gently grab onto his shoulders to try and wake him up, his shirt has slipped and your palm rests on the bare skin, the warmth that comes from him could burn you. From such a simple touch that foggy haze fills your head once again, when Viktor is in a better position you'll get a drink of water. You tighten your grip on his shoulders and carefully shake him, a sad attempt to wake him. You would just carry him to the bed, you're strong enough, but you don't want to irritate his leg.

“Hey, Viktor.. are you awake?” You whisper, when you feel him stir. No response comes from him, but you're not going to give up any time soon. So this time you try a different method, you crouch beside him and lift up his head to try and see if he's awake, and he's not. Of course he's not. But you're determined to save his back from his hunched position. Each time you try something different and your hand makes contact with him, you can feel another spark flow through your veins and the foggy haze in your head gets stronger. Maybe this time you'll just splash him with ice cold water, but that'll probably give the poor thing a heart attack.

“Viktor, come on. You can't stay like this,” you groan and try to shake him awake, once again to no avail, and your feet are starting to ache from crouching in your heels for so long. At this point you're starting to give up, and you try to shake him one last time. Your hand rests on his waist this time, the other on his arm, you can feel the warmth of his body, along with his scent, a mix of oil, metal, and his shampoo that creates an intoxicating smell that you'll never get enough of now, from this position and, as much as you may hate to admit it, it sparks a dull throb in your core. “Vik.. please?” You shake him, trying to ignore the fire that's sparked inside of you, and this time he does wake up. A shallow gasp escapes from him as he pushes his head up and rubs the back of his neck. He lets out a low groan and looks over at you, the noise has you thinking about just how he would sound if you had your way with him.

This time it's his turn to shake you from your, not so innocent, thoughts, and he pushes himself up from the desk, now standing while you're still crouching. The position puts you at the perfect level that your thoughts start to wander again. “Just how much did you have to drink?” He chuckles as you stand yourself up, one of his hands reaches to press against your forehead, and it burns. You can't tell if it's him or you that's warmer, but the contact has a familiar pulse starting at your core. Just before he's able to say something you push his hand away from yourself. “Enough,” you reply, trying to shake the feeling away.

He scoffs and leans against the desk, and you can't deny how fucking hot he looks. His hair is messed up, his clothes have wrinkles in them, and his hands, god his hands, have traces of whatever he was using back at the lab on them.

You decide to take a shower now, maybe this way you can deal with the problem of your hormones raging like a horny teen. The warm water feels like it's been sent straight from heaven and down on your aching muscles, you can feel yourself relaxing under the water. You let your hand drift to your breasts and massage the flesh of one and then the other, feeling your nipples harden under your palm. Each touch you give yourself, you let yourself imagine that it's Viktor. You place your free hand over your mouth to silence your gasp when you push a finger inside your hole to find yourself dripping from such light touches. You curl your finger up to try and hit that one spongy spot inside you, and when you finally find it, you hope that your hand muffled the loud moan you let out. You slowly add another finger, wishing it was his instead of your own. You set a steady rhythm of your fingers, while grinding your swollen clit against your palm. You bit down on your hand in a sad attempt of silencing yourself, silently praying that the mix of your palm and the running water will be enough to not let your moans escape the bathroom. You start to speed up your fingers as you feel your orgasm get closer, desperately grinding against your palm for the friction you crave against your clit. Soon enough your orgasm crashes down on you, and you let out a loud moan. Now you're left panting from the aftershocks of your orgasm, yet even after that, the haze and pulse is still evident. Maybe you should just sleep it off.

The shower you had was relaxing and when you come out you find Viktor sitting up on the bed, with a book in hand. You crawl into bed beside him and lay your head onto the pillow, closing your eyes and relishing in the cold feeling of the fabric against your, still burning hot, skin. Even after a long shower the feeling hasn't stopped, and now being right beside Viktor, it's seemed to double. “Are you okay?” Viktor asks, when you lift your head up from the cold release of the pillow, all you can muster is a nod, if you open your mouth you're afraid you might just moan, you can feel his body heat from under the covers and his scent is evident in the bed. “I'm fine, Vik, think I just had a little too much to drink,” you laugh and rest your cheek on one of your arms, “but I'll be fine after a good sleep.”

Viktor sighs and lifts your face up, his hand holding your chin. He studies your face and you can feel your face heat up from his intense gaze. “Hmm, you don't seem fine. You're practically burning up,” he states. The way his accent sounds when he speaks has you clenching your thighs and hoping he doesn't see you doing so. He keeps your face in his hand for a few more seconds before he finally lets go, “maybe it was one of the drinks you had making you burn up.” He brushes some stray hairs out of your face and he shuffles so you're both laying down, he pulls your face closer to him and squints his eyes at you, before he can say anything else you pull him closer and kiss him, feeling his reciprocate the kiss just spurts you on more and you thread your fingers in his hair.

He rests a hand on the curve of your waist and when you feel it you pull away and feel yourself internally panic, “holy shit, I'm sorry. I have no fucking clue whats gotten into-” Before you're able to finish your scentance he pulls you back down and kisses you. His hand trails down your waist towards your thigh and he strokes the side of your thigh, occasionally giving the fat of your thigh a squeeze. “I told you. It was one of the drinks.” He mumbles against your lips and grabs your hip and pulls you closer, you take the hint and quickly climb on top of him, straddling his hips, and he groans when you grind down on his semi hard erection.

You pull away from his lips just long enough to tug his shirt off, quickly doing the same with your own, before connecting your lips again. You start to trail kisses down his jawline, towards his neck, leaving a kiss on his adams apple, and moving to the side of his neck to leave more kisses and occasional harsh sucks to form a mark, savouring the noises he lets out every time you do. Being careful to not hurt his leg, you move yourself down to trail your kisses lower and lower until you reach the hem of his pants. “May I?” You ask breathlessly and he chuckles, “you practically tore off my shirt, you think I'd say no now.” He scoffs, a teasing undertone to his words that causes the throb in your core to heighten. You pull down his pants and boxers to let him dick out, wrapping your hand around the base and giving him a few strokes before you wrap your mouth around the tip, licking up the bead of precum that's settled there. He groans and tangles his fingers in the strands of your hair, not pushing or pulling but just resting his hand there. You start to bob your head, making sure to tease the tip, relishing in the noises he's making, a mix of delicious groans and whimpers leave his lips and it spurs you on more. He thrusts his hips up and the tip hits the back of your throat causing you to gag around him, his fingers gently tug on your hair and when you look up at him he lets out a loud groan. You use one of your hands to reach down and rub your clit, matching the pace of your fingers with the pace of your head. He thrusts his hips up again, this time a little rougher, and you know he's getting close. You swirl your tongue around the tip and he pulls your head off him. “No, when I cum, it'll be inside you.” He says, and you whine at the loss of friction when you pull your hand away from your aching clit. He pulls you to him and kisses you, savouring the way you taste and groaning when he tastes himself on your lips. You pull your pants off and straddle his hips again, lifting yourself up and lining his cock up. You give him a few strokes and slowly start to sink down.

The stretch is delicious and you moan when you've lowered yourself all the way. He brings one of his hands to your thigh and rubs it, you place your hands on his chest and start to lift yourself up. You whimper as you do so, adjusting to the stretch. A few seconds of just having his tip inside you, you lower yourself back down and repeat, slowly getting faster and rougher with each bounce. Soon you're riding him, one of your hands is on his chest, supporting yourself and the other rests on Viktors hand that's squeezing your thigh. You speed up a bit more and he groans when he feels you clench around him, his head falls back onto the pillow. His hand leaves your thigh and he brings it up and starts expertly rubbing your clit, for a second you find yourself jealous of his experienced fingers.

“Viktor! Fuck.. please don't stop!” You moan and clench around him, his hips start to rut up to meet your bounces. You both know that you're close and you know you aren't going to last very long. Your moans start to become more frequent and at a higher pitch, one of your hands leaves red scratches down his chest as you feel your orgasm get closer. Your nails dig into his skin and you bury your face in his neck, biting down on the sensitive skin when your orgasm hits you, your pussy pulses around his cock and with a few more thrusts up he's cumming inside you, his muscles tensing and he's moaning.

You both lay with each other for a few seconds before Viktor speaks up, “do you feel better?” He chuckles when you nod, you're still panting and you rest your forehead against his, a sheen of sweat on you both. You whimper when you push yourself up and feel his softening cock slide out of you, the globs of cum that drip out of you make you whine. He grabs your hips and pulls your pussy closer to him. “I can't have you dripping on the bed, we just changed the sheets.” He groans and pulls you so you're sitting on his face, his tongue lapping at your folds and tracing your clit. You can feel the vibrations of him laughing when you squirm on top of him, his hands have a tight grip on your hips, ensuring you don't move too much. You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging on it as you start to grind your hips on his face. He ravages you, eating you out like a starved man. The curve of his nose bumps your swollen and sensitive clit deliciously and you pull on his hair at the feeling, when you do he groans into your pussy. He doesn't slow down or even hint at stopping as you can feel your third orgasm of the night creep up on you.

“Fuck! Viktor.. ‘m so close!” You whimper and grind your hips down on his face, the obscene slurping noises that come from him just fuel your arousal. You tighten your grip on his hair and your thighs tense around his face as your orgasm hits, your squirming as he helps you ride out your orgasm. He laps up all of your juices until you're trying to push yourself off from sensitivity. “There we go,” he sighs when you move off his face, he has a sheen of your arousal around his mouth and he licks his lips and smirks at you, “now you won't drip on the clean sheets.” You laugh and he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you, you can taste yourself on his lips and it’s one of the best things you’ve ever tasted.

“How did you know it was the drink?” You ask him, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with each word that leaves your lips. “Aphrodisiac, it was easy enough to figure out when you came out of the shower. You're not as quiet as you think you are,” He smirks when you groan at him. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, one of his hands rubs your back, drawing random shapes and figures, and successfully lulling you to sleep.

[pathologicalreid]

wavelength | s.r.

in which your son ends up in the hospital on one of the BAUs busiest nights of the year

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst (hurt/comfort) content warnings: child in hospital with unnamed illness, seizures, pregnant!reader, boy dad!spencer, MRIs, head injury word count: 1.96k a/n: this is my little reid family from three's a family, but as usual, you don't have to read that one to understand this one. (it's one of the cryptic pregnancy ones so maybe keep that in mind lmao) - welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda, i missed it

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your thumbs enough to press the call button, tapping the green icon, you press your phone to your ear, listening to the rings as you keep your other hand on the bed in front of you.

Sniffling, Leo holds your hand in his much smaller one, “Mama?” His voice is little more than a whine, and you find yourself wishing he’d fall asleep while you wait for his turn in radiology.

“Yeah, lovey?” You whisper, squeezing his fingers gently as he looks at you with sad eyes.

His eyes were sad in a way that only a three-year-old’s could be, not quite understanding why he had to stay in the hospital, and continuously asking for his parents. “I don’t feel good,” he mumbles, his voice soft as he shifts on his side in the hospital bed.

Your shoulders slouch ever so slightly, trying not to show him how much of his displeasure you shared, “I know. I’m so sorry.” They were holding off on giving him more medication, but it just made him miserable.

Starting to wonder if they could just give him something to help him rest, you distantly hear your name being called, taking a moment to be confused before you remember that you called Spencer.

“Hey,” you greet a little breathlessly, “Are you working?” You move your hand, smoothing back Leo’s hair in an attempt to coax him to sleep.

You hear a shuffling of papers on the other end of the call, answering your question well enough before he responds verbally, “We’re just trying to finish a few things up before calling it a night.”

Bowing your head, you sigh, “Right, you have that senate review next week.”

Spencer groans at the reminder of the meeting, “And finding some of these files is proving to be difficult. I think Garcia’s just about had it, but we’re all starting to get to that point. Why the call? Not that I’m unhappy to hear your voice,” he clarifies. “Did Leo get to sleep alright?”

You falter slightly knowing that Spencer is already stressing about work, “Honey,” you start softly, “Leo’s alright, but I had to call an ambulance for him about an hour ago.”

“What happened? You said he’s alright?” He asks, fear changing the pitch of his voice.

Swallowing thickly, you watch Leo continue to fight sleep, his brown eyes watching you while you’re on the phone. “They think he had a seizure,” you whisper, keeping your voice down so that your son doesn’t catch onto your anxiety.

There’s a shuffle of papers on the other end, “Is he sick? Was it a febrile seizure?”

“Uh, no, hold on,” you flip through the pamphlet, “They called it a drop seizure when we were in the emergency room, and they did an EEG.” You explain, reading over the papers in front of you for the nth time.

Spencer talks to someone else in the room, hopefully letting them know that he has to leave, “What happened?”

Tears prick your eyes, and you look up into the fluorescent light to will them away, “I was just getting him ready for bed, and he went to go potty, and he just fell. He hit his head on the tub and I just… I panicked,” you admit the last part. “I was not very collected, and the 911 operator knew that,” you tell him, watching Leo’s eyes finally fall shut.

“I wouldn’t have been either,” Spencer assures you, “What hospital did they bring you to?”

Rattling off the name of the hospital, you risk assuming that Leo’s asleep enough for you to step back, enabling you to speak at a higher volume, “Can you leave work?” You weren’t even thinking about how busy the BAU was when you called, you were just thinking about getting Leo his dad. “They want to do an MRI, and he’s allowed to have someone in there with him, so he doesn’t get scared,” you explain.

“But you can’t,” Spencer needlessly reminds you.

A huff of frustration escapes your lips as you look down, eyes focusing on where your shirt catches on the soft swell of your lower belly. “No, I can’t,” you say miserably.

A nurse walks through the door, sparing a pitying glance at you, the pregnant mom whose toddler was in the PICU, before checking on Leo’s vitals. Spencer clears his throat, “I’m already on my way.”

You lose track of time, sitting in the reclining chair that lives in the corner of the PICU room, and memories of Leo’s first month of life start to flash in front of your eyes. He was a thirty-two-weeker, and he spent twenty-nine days in the NICU before coming home for the first time.

You felt like a failure then, and you feel like a failure now.

Tapping your fingers on your belly, you watch Leo sleep, his body curled up on the hospital bed and collodion stuck to his forehead. You remember finding out you were pregnant again, the overwhelming joy that mixed with the stunned fear like oil and water—Spencer had to remind you to breathe.

Something caught your attention, a small, high-pitched beep from one of Leo’s monitors sent a group of people flying into the room, standing around your son and listing off things that your fear-addled brain couldn’t comprehend.

He’s there when you stand up, Spencer stays at your side for all twenty-one seconds of Leo’s second seizure, watching as strength returns to his tiny body and his eyes open, “Mama?” His small voice calls out for you, afraid of being surrounded by doctors and nurses that he doesn’t know.

Slipping away from Spencer, you make your way back to the hospital bed, hovering over your son as you cup his cheeks affectionately, “I’m here, baby.” Hiding your face to wipe tears away, your fear that he still feels ill is only exacerbated by the fact that he doesn’t insist that he’s not a baby—he’ll always be yours, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you let him see past you, the way his eyes light up at the sight of his father, “Daddy!” He chirps, trying to reach out for Spencer.

“Hey, buddy,” Spencer says, his voice tight while he crouches in front of Leo, “Mama says you don’t feel good.”

Leo shakes his head, “I hit my head,” he recounts mournfully, “then we had to go in the loud car.”

Your husband frowns for a moment before he realizes Leo’s talking about the ambulance, “Did they tell you I get to go with you to get your tests done?” He warps the narrative to make the MRI seem like a fun activity—something they get to do.

“Can mama go?” Leo asks, tilting his head to the side slightly, leaning into you as he does so.

Gently, you wrap an arm around him, dressed in a pediatric hospital gown with all kinds of wires and electrodes attached to him. “Mama has to stay up here,” Spencer breaks the news to him, sparing you a sympathetic glance, “but she’ll be here when we get back. Then, we can tell her and the baby all about it.”

The baby won’t be able to hear outside voices until you’re much further along, but when Spencer tried to explain that to your toddler, the only response he’d gotten was Why?

As it turns out, even Spencer Reid has a limit to the number of questions he can answer, so you let Leo talk to the baby. “I’ll be right here when you get back,” you reassure Leo, taking a shaky breath when he wraps his arms around you.

He’s in tears by the time they come to get him, only willing to go to radiology if they let his daddy carry him there.

You’ve let go of the hope that this was all just a freak incident, but the looks that the nurses have started exchanging squashed that optimism immediately. Taking the opportunity to lie on the hospital bed, you try to reassure yourself—if Spencer didn’t seem worried, you shouldn’t be worried.

Though Spencer wouldn’t show his concern to you, he certainly wouldn’t do it with Leo in the room.

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you’re woken up by something being set on your side, your eyes cracking open just enough to watch Spencer lay Leo down on the bed next to you. “Hey,” Spencer whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I was trying not to wake you up.”

Cringing at the brightness of the room, you watch Leo as he curls into your side, “How did he do?”

“He was great,” Spencer says, gently ruffling the sleeping boy’s hair. “He fell asleep about halfway through,” he informs you, carefully pulling a chair up to the bedside.

You hum, making sure Leo is snug in his blanket before turning back to Spencer, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner.”

Spencer shakes his head dismissively, “It’s okay,” he whispers, mindful of the hour—it’s nearing midnight now.

Reaching a hand up to cover your mouth, you hiccup a sob, “I’m a bad mom.”

“You are not a bad mom,” Spencer responds quickly, peeling your hand from your mouth and taking it in his hand.

Your lower lip quivers, “This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been born so early.”

Spencer’s face softens, squeezing your hand comfortingly, “That wasn’t your fault. That was a situation that you didn’t have any control over.”

Deep down, you know he’s right, but your mom guilt that was on the surface level made the truth hard to see. “I couldn’t even hold his hand while he got an MRI,” you cry, small tears falling from your eyes.

“Honey,” Spencer murmurs, carefully wiping the tears from your cheeks, “You’re pregnant. Even more, you’re high risk,” Spencer reminds you as if it’s something you’re soon to forget. “There’s no way I would’ve let you in that room. You can blame that on me if you’d like.”

Leo shifts next to you, garnering your attention for just a moment before you turn back to Spencer, “I thought an MRI was better for pregnant women.”

Sighing, Spencer looks at you fondly, “Compared to a CT, an MRI is the better option if it’s medically necessary. Logically, I’m well aware of this, but I do find myself more protective over you these days,” he admits, eyes flickering down to your bump.

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I should’ve been watching him before he hit his head.”

Your husband dismisses your concern immediately, “We’ve been teaching him privacy, he’s proud that he gets to go potty on his own.”

“Why won’t you let me feel guilty?” You ask, frowning at him.

He hums in response, “Because you aren’t guilty. Your baby is in the hospital, and you might have some unresolved issues from when he was in the NICU.” He takes a deep breath, “and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re tired, and you have a lot of conflicting emotions and hormones that you’re struggling with.”

Leaning your head back on the pillow, you sigh loudly, “You know me too well.”

“I also know that our son loves you, and what happened tonight was not your fault,” he reiterates. “Whatever is going on with him, we’ll figure it out, okay? The four of us are going to be just fine.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you nod in understanding and listen to the soft whistle of Leo’s nose as he exhales. “We’ll be just fine,” you echo, intertwining your fingers with Spencer’s and preparing yourself for what’s bound to be a long night.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Please Come Home

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: You never realized how many places there were to hide in your apartment, but you’re pretty sure someone else is in here with you. Whatever they want isn’t good.

Word count: 3.3k

TW: home invasion, violence, curses as insults

Your spare key is missing.

Fuck. You always keep it in this drawer. Where the fuck is it?

When you told Jason he could just grab your keys to take your car instead of his bike to the store, you’d been relying on using your spare to lock up the apartment when you left for work. You never, ever moved it, but it was gone all the same. Did he take it instead of your keychain? Nope, that’s missing from its hook next to the front door.

When was the last time you used it? Not too long ago. Had you been careless about putting it back?

You text Jason, Did you grab my spare key?

Shit. You had to leave for work, like, five minutes ago, and you have no key to lock the front door.

At least you have a fire escape. You bolt the door from the inside, then slip out the window. You can’t latch it from the outside, but it’s a little harder to break in through the window than the front door.

You’re only two minutes late to your waitressing shift. Your manager swipes you in, lets you know that a server called out so you’ll be handling two sections today, and the host runs up to tell you that you’ve already been sat.

In the middle of the shift, when you have a minute to catch your breath, you check your phone. Jason had texted, No, I took your keychain. Is your spare missing?

I think I lost it.

I’ll look for it when I come home before patrol. Will I see you before heading out?

Not looking like it. Things haven’t slowed down at all.

I’ll see you when I get home, then. Don’t wait up.

I’ll have dinner in the fridge when you get back. Gotta get back to work. Love you

I love you, too.

A couple hours later, Jason texts that he has no luck locating your spare. Since he’s paranoid, he’s going out for a new lock tomorrow, but there’s important business with a drug ring that he can’t miss tonight.

That’s okay. It’ll be a pain to climb up the fire escape, but you don’t really mind that much. You’ve been meaning to get more exercise, anyway.

You finish work at six and the walk back to your apartment building is pretty peaceful. Unusual for Gotham.

It lulls you into a false sense of security.

You’re not really in the mood for leftovers, and not really in the mood to cook. You stare between your phone and the pantry. Takeout is easy. So is pasta.

With a sigh, you decide to spare your bank account. Delivery fees are getting ridiculous nowadays.

You text Jason just to see how his night is going. You’re not sure he’ll respond; sometimes, like during stakeouts, he turns his phone off completely so the sound or vibrate doesn’t reveal his presence. He doesn’t respond after a minute, which means he’s busy. You sigh and set down your phone, then change into comfier clothes. As soon as you’re out of your room, you grab a pot and box of pasta. You can’t sit down, or you’ll put off dinner for at least another hour.

The water is set to boil when you turn around to look at your phone, vaguely hoping Jason has responded by now.

Your phone isn’t on the counter.

You frown. You’re pretty sure you left it there.

Maybe it’s in the pantry when you grabbed the pasta?

It’s not.

You must have left it in your room when you changed. You check, and it’s sitting right on your bedside table. “Jeez,” you mutter, picking it up and slipping it into your pocket. After a long day, it’s okay to be scatterbrained, but this is a bit much.

Still no response from Jason.

You walk out of the bedroom to see that the stove turned itself off and the pasta water is barely warm. “Gotham appliances are such pieces of shit,” you mutter. You know what, fine. A shower and feeling clean will make you feel better to try again. The saying is that a watched pot never boils, but hopefully a watched Gotham stove never turns itself on and off randomly while you cook.

The apartment’s a bit chilly, so you take your pajamas with you into the bathroom and sit under the water spray until all the grime of the day washes away. It’s a bad habit, but you bring your phone with you in the shower to scroll through social media until your skin starts to get pruny. You step out, wrapping the towel around yourself in a vain attempt to stop shivering, and… your pajamas are gone.

The pajamas that you’re sure you took with you. You distinctly remember putting them on the sink counter.

And now they’re gone.

Something clenches in your stomach. You text Jason, Hey are you home yet?

He doesn’t respond right away.

Jay, this isn’t funny.

Still nothing.

Is it possible you forgot to bring the clothes with you? No, you distinctly remember the thought process.

Someone moved them, and you can’t think of s single reason anyone you know would do that. That kind of prank isn’t funny.

You text Jason, I think there is someone in the house with me. Then you try calling him.

You go straight to voicemail.

You bite your lip, trying hard not to panic. Jason never sends you to voicemail. He’s answered your calls in the middle of shootouts, voice strained, “Hey, kinda busy right now, is it an emergency?”

His phone is turned off, so who knows when he’ll see your texts. He might not turn it on again for hours.

You text your best friend, I think someone broke into my house. Don’t call me. Please help.

You chew on your thumbnail.

Either she calls the cops, or she shows up with a baseball bat and her scary-ass motorcycle dude boyfriend. He’s secretly a softie, but his appearance doesn’t match his personality.

He’s a lot like Jason, actually. Who would have thought you two had the same type?

You call Jason again.

Voicemail.

Again.

Voicemail.

Your best friend texts, Omw. That’s it, but it’s the best text you’ve ever seen in your life.

Okay. Either cower in the bathroom until someone shows up, or play along with the same game the possibly-real-intruder is playing, that everything is normal.

No matter what happens next, you want to be dressed for it. You peek under the door, but you don’t see anyone’s feet.

Maybe this is all in your head, but you have a terrible gut feeling that it isn’t.

Your heart pounds, but you maintain a leisurely stroll into your room through the kitchen, palming a knife as you go, and locking the door behind you. The intruder may be in your closet, so you hold the knife out as you swing the door open.

Empty.

You throw on the first clothes you see and debate hiding in your room until your friend arrives. But adrenaline is pumping and you think you might shake out of your skin. You sit on the edge of the bed and take deep breaths.

There’s a window in your room, but it only opens three inches and it’s not connected to the fire escape, so that’s not an option. The window that leads to the fire escape is in the main room, so you’d have to walk through the kitchen to get to it, and the intruder may be hiding in the pantry.

You could try the front door, but the storage closet is right next to it: another likely place for someone to hide and jump out at you.

Your room is only as safe as the strength of the door. And the wood is pretty thin.

All of a sudden, your phone buzzes, and you drop it. You snatch it up to see an incoming call lighting up the screen with your boyfriend’s handsome contact photo.

You accept the call immediately. “Jay?”

“I’m on my way,” he rushes out. You hear the roar of his motorcycle in the background. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.” You whisper, “I think someone is here.”

“I know.” His voice is strained. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine. I’m five minutes away. Can you get out?”

“I don’t know. I’m in my bedroom, I locked my door. I think he’s hiding somewhere in the apart—”

A hand shoots out from under the bed and grabs your ankle.

You scream.

Your phone flies away when he yanks you off the bed. You go down swinging with the knife and make contact, accidentally swiping your own ankle in the process. The man grunts with pain and lets go, and you scramble to the door. You don’t even feel the pain in your ankle, although you’re actually bleeding a lot.

He’s wriggling out from under your bed when you get to your feet and twist the doorknob. “Get the fuck out of my house, you fucking pervert!” you scream. You yank the door open and run…

Right into a stranger’s chest.

There are two of them?

An iron grip clamps over your shoulder. His other hand fists in your hair. “Well, hello, pretty. You’re not the Red Hood.”

You stab him in the stomach.

Unfortunately, that only makes him mad.

“You bitch,” he groans. The slap is so powerful it nearly breaks your neck. You can’t breathe for a second, and then the first man catches up to you. His hand is bleeding. Like, a lot. They transfer you over so the stabbed man can groan about being stabbed. It’s only in his gut, so he should be fine. “Walk it off,” you goad. It’s the Gotham in you.

The first man digs his bloody knuckles into your cheek. “Fucking whore cut me,” he says. “Where’s the Red Hood?”

“He’ll kill you both,” you spit. “He’s on his way to shoot you in the head.” The threat should have scared them, but they were dumb enough to break into the Red Hood’s apartment and beat his partner. They had not been blessed with many braincells.

“Good,” he says. “He’ll get here just in time to see his pretty pet die.”

Someone pounds on the door and everyone freezes. Fear flashes over their face, but Jason wouldn’t have knocked. He would have kicked the door down or gone through the window.

Your best friend calls your name through the door. She’s trying to sound casual, but things are so far past casual.

The man holding you sees you draw in a breath to scream. “Don’t you dare,” he warns. “Do it and I’ll kill them, too.” The barrel of a gun presses to the side of your head.

Where is Jason?

You don’t think he’ll get here in time. He doesn’t deserve to carry the weight of that failure, but he will. Your Jay thinks he’s responsible for every bad thing in the world.

The man’s ugly face explodes.

You register the concussive sound of gunfire half a second later. Your ears ring. You lose your balance.

More gunfire. It’s so loud all you can do is cover your ears. Who’s shooting who?

It stops as suddenly as it started, but you don’t look up. You can’t hear anything. You don’t want to see their ugly faces anymore.

Then hands grab you again, and you shriek. Your kitchen knife is still buried in the second man’s gut, so you have no defense. A man with a gun is going to kill you in your apartment.

Despite all your attempts at fighting, he’s too strong. Iron hands pry your hands away from your head, but you still can’t hear anything. Your ears are still ringing too loud. Your eardrums might have burst.

Then gloved hands cup your cheeks.

You know those gloves.

Jason is kneeling on the ground in front of you, absolutely frantic. His mouth moves, but you don’t hear anything. You don’t even hear your sob, but you definitely feel it right before you throw yourself at him.

Strong arms wrap around your back. Jason cradles you, hugs you so tight you can’t breathe, tries to hide you from anyone that might hear you. You still can’t make out his words, but you’re beginning to hear a muffled voice.

You’re sitting completely in his lap, his legs behind you to support your back. You cling to him, trying not to shake. You’re a pretty unflappable Gothamite, but a home invasion is enough to rattle anyone. You’re supposed to be safe here.

Jason pulls away just enough to kiss your forehead. His green eyes squeeze tight like he’s in pain, and a single tear slips from the corner of one.

You wipe it away.

Jason wipes the blood on your cheek away.

You read his lips when he asks if you’re okay. You nod. You’re alive, and that’s what matters.

Jason holds you still when you try to look around. He says something that you can’t read. He must know that you don’t understand, because he just uses one huge hand on the back of your head to pull you forward. His mouth presses against your forehead, not quite a kiss, just relishing the connection.

You hear the banging first. Then you hear the shouting.

Oh, God. Your best friend.

You scramble out of Jason’s hold so fast he can’t stop you. You stumble past two dead bodies, both with three bullets in their heads. The floor is ruined beyond belief.

Jason helps support you. He needs to touch you somewhere to reassure himself that you’re okay, that you’re alive. You unlock the door, and barely open it a crack before your friend pushes it all the way open.

She gasps at the sight of you. “Oh, my God!” Her arms wrap tight around your neck, and you squeeze her. Jason’s hand remains pressed against your back. Her boyfriend stands behind her in the hallway, and he eyes Jason somewhat suspiciously. The two have never met before.

Your best friend pulls away, and Jason folds you against his side. His hand runs up and down your arm.

“Are you okay? There’s blood all over you.” Her eyes drift past your face and land on the bodies on your floor. Her mouth tightens, but she doesn't scream or call the cops immediately.

“It’s not mine,” you say faintly. “Well…” You look at your ankle. “Most of it.”

“Jesus,” says Jason. “They did that to you?”

"I did it to myself," you admit. "But I stabbed that one." You point.

He kisses the top of your head. "I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself. I never should have left you alone." Jason fixes your friend with a look so stern that she actually gulps. "Can you watch them for a little bit?"

"Yeah," she says. "I'll take care of them."

"Good." Jason takes your face in his hands. His eyes blaze. "I'll be back as soon as I can. You hear me? You're not gonna be alone ever again."

You nod numbly.

Jason carries you to the couch, then coaches your friend through applying pressure to your ankle. He gently places an icepack in your hand, then moves you until it's pressed to your numb cheek. Then he kisses you. Pulls back. Kisses you again. It's not sweet—he tastes like blood, or maybe you do—but it's firm, and it's real, and it's a promise.

He stands up and asks your friend's boyfriend, "You wanna help me with these?"

As far as you know, the other man's never hidden a dead body in his life. But to his credit, he hardly hesitates before nodding.

Jason's already calling someone when he walks out. One of his criminal contacts, you're sure. You don't know and you don't want to know.

They're gone for twenty minutes. You're still in shock when they get back. You know you're in shock, but you can't snap out of it. You don't think you want to.

He gently nudges your friend's hands away to peek under the gauze. "You want stitches for this, honey?"

You shake your head. The cut's too close to bone, and you don't want a needle going anywhere near your bones.

"Okay." He changes the gauze, then tapes it in place, then puts a sticky wrap over that. "I'll change this in the morning. You're gonna be okay."

"I'm glad you're all right," your friend's boyfriend offers. You don't know each other all that well, but he just helped hide two bodies that you and Jason killed, so he must be an all right dude. You nod, give him a shaky smile, try to wave.

Your best friend bends over to hug you. "I'm going to text you in the morning," she says. "You'll be okay with Jason. I'm so proud of you. I'm so glad you're okay."

You hug her back until she puts the icepack back in the freezer.

When they leave, Jason stands up from the couch. You make a pleading, confused noise in the back of your throat, and he smooths your hair away from your face. "I'll be right back, honey," he promises. "I'm gonna lock the door. No one's ever getting to you again, you hear me?"

As soon as he pulls away, you shiver. The only thing keeping you warm was his body.

True to his word, he locks the front door, then heads right back to you.

"Do you want to go to the bedroom?" Jason asks softly.

You shake your head. There was a man hiding beneath your bed tonight. It was worse than any monster you used to be scared of as a child.

"Okay," he says softly. Jason eases onto the couch, but he has so much bulk that it's impossible to lay side-by-side on your backs. Jason twists onto his side, and after a moment, you do too, using one of his massive biceps as a pillow. He smells like gunpowder. You smell like blood. You fit together like two terrible, violent puzzle pieces.

He kisses your forehead again. Pulls a blanket over the two of you, makes sure it's snug around your feet. You enjoy the fussing.

When he has nothing left to fiddle with, Jason sucks in a ragged inhale, then says, voice cracking, "When I saw those texts, I was terrified."

"I'm glad you checked your phone," you say. "For a while, I thought you wouldn't."

"I could feel that something was wrong."

Your throat hurts. "Did you mess up your mission tonight because of me?"

"Honey, I would do anything for you," he says. "I'd abandon a thousand missions to keep you safe. I'd burn this city to the ground."

Another night, you would remind him that he's a hero. That he fights for the greater good. That he is good.

Tonight, you take comfort in the vow.

"I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "You were so brave. You did so well."

Your fingers twist in his shirt. Your nose nestles into the hollow at the base of his throat perfectly, so you hear every breath he takes, every rumble in his throat when he talks. You press a kiss to his chest just above the neckline of his shirt, and his throat jumps.

Jason makes a strangled noise, then wraps his arms even tighter around you. He throws one leg over your hip, completely covering you, pressing you into the couch. You would feel suffocated if it was anyone else.

You fall asleep faster than you ever have before, secure that Jason won't let anything happen to you during the night. The last thing you register before unconsciousness is his dry lips pressed to your forehead again. Making sure you're alive. Reassuring you that he's here and always will be.

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[thinkinonsense]

old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl *mdni

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something smutty so if it sucks im sorry lmao also if any writers have any tips please share! :)

logan has been around for long enough to know when a woman is attracted to him. there was a certain essence given off that was always a dead giveaway. usually it came from women close to the age he looked like and it tended to be brief moments of lust before all hope was lost. this was until he met you.

the pretty young girl working at the diner during her time off from college. everyday, he came in and ordered a black coffee. the coffee wasn't even that good but logan would spend two dollars every single day of his life if it came with the view of you bending over in that tiny uniform skirt.

logan would watch you for hours while he drank and skimmed the news paper alone in a booth. your hair was always up in either a ponytail or held together with a hair clip. he loved seeing your pretty handwriting as you scribbled on your notepad, taking orders. it was part of your job to be nice to everyone but you were especially nice to him. even your friends began to notice how you would linger by his table, constantly topping off his coffee mug and making small talk; sometimes giving him a slice of cherry pie on the house.

"don't you think he's kinda old for you?" one of your friends whispers to you behind the counter.

it's stung but you suppose she had a point. what would a man old enough to be your father want with a young wild girl like yourself?

"i-i guess so?" you stuttered, embarrassed at your previous attempt at flirting with him.

the rest of the night, you hoped he would leave before close so you could have some time alone with your feelings. summer was almost over and you would go back to the city soon. it was time to forget these silly fantasizes.

by ten, all the other waitresses went home except you, the older woman in the back who counted the drawer every night, and a few of the cooks. the only customer still there was logan. he flipped through one of the books he brought with him; still sipping away at that damn coffee.

"isn't it getting a little late for you, sweetheart?" he asked nonchalantly, not even looking up at you as you bent over to scrub the table next to his. the fifth table you've cleaned in the last hour and the second time you've cleaned that specific table. logan noticed but you didn't.

"need the hours." you mumble, frustrated by a stubborn stain. all logan could focus on was your scrunched nose and how your tight top pushed your boobs together just right for his viewing. "college is fucking expensive plus grants and scholarships only cover so much."

"hmm.." logan grunts. grants? scholarship? what a goody fucking two shoes, logan thought to himself. "if you bring me piece of pie, i think i can help you out."

you lean off the table and go get what's left in the glass container. it's probably a little hard so you definitely didn't plan on charging him for it. you sit the plate down in front of him and before you could turn around to walk away, logan reaches for your wrist softly.

"join me." he offers.

you knew you shouldn't but what was really the harm? at least your friends weren't here to make fun of you. the radio played quietly on an older station while you watched logan take a bite of the pie.

"why did your friends leave you here alone?" he asked, watching your face turn sour at the memory of them.

"don't wanna talk about it." your voice was small in the empty diner.

"why? think an old man like me can't relate to it?" logan chuckles. your thighs squeeze together without thinking. so much for not embarrassing yourself.

"no, no, not that." you shake your head and a strand of hair falls from your bun. "just sort of juvenile, you know?"

logan could tell that you were trying to come off more mature around him. you didn't want him to see you as some college kid.

"juvenile, how?" he eggs on, pushing down his glasses a bit.

god, those glasses got to you; and logan knew it.

"they don't understand how i feel about someone." you sigh.

"how do you feel about this person?" logan noticed you now avoiding his gaze, not liking it one bit. "eyes on me, princess."

the nickname caught you off guard like a dear in headlight; blinking and trembling up at logan. something logan enjoyed very much and could get used to.

"it's not important, just some stupid crush." you lie through your teeth. "they will forget about me in a month."

"why don't you think it'll work?" he cocks his head to the side a bit. "you're a pretty young thing, dollface. anyone of those college boys would be lucky to be wrapped around your little finger."

"i don't want college boys." you mumble, slightly annoyed by the memory of your friends.

logan felt himself getting hard at you admitting you had a taste for someone older. his eyes grew dark as he leaned in a little over the table.

"then what do you want?"

your moment to answer was interrupted by the older woman from the back, releasing you to go home for the evening. this was your chance to get up and leave before you admitted anything else that you would regret.

both of you stood up. logan threw down some cash while you went to collect your stuff behind the counter.

"i'll see you tomorrow, lo-"

"you didn't answer the question."

"i must go now if i want to catch the last train."

logan worried about you taking the train back to your apartment alone this late at night. usually you drive back but your car has been in the shop for almost three days now. he would watch you get to your car every night to make sure you were safe.

"i can drive you home." logan offers.

you shouldn't be this excited to be sitting in a strangers truck alone at night but here you were. the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before logan brought up the conversation from the diner again. what did you even want?

"i want someone who understands me..." you begin rattling off the first things that come to mind when you notice logan's hand on your knee. you don't dare move.

"someone who is responsible..." with every word, his hand creeps higher and higher up your skirt. logan is more than pleased when he notices your legs spread on their own.

"someone who is m-mature..." logan's fingers inch towards the delicate skin of your inner thigh. there's no way this was happening, you thought as his index finger plays with the lace on the center of your pink underwear. he smirked at the wet spot front and center, waiting for him.

"treats me r-r-right." every word was a struggle to form as he stroked you softly. back and forth. back and forth.

logan nods along, not letting up down below. his index finger hooks onto your underwear, pulling it aside. you weren't even sure if you were breathing at this point; all this teasing was torture.

"p-p-please, logan..." you whine. "touch me."

his thumb rubs tiny circles on your button, adoring the way his name pours from your glossy lips. your hands fly to his wrists, needing more; nails digging into his skin in the most delicious way.

"where did this greediness come from?" logan groans, dipping his index finger inside of you. "what happened to that good girl from the diner?"

logan's finger barely fit in the tight space. your head fell back and a loud moan escaped you.

"oh, you weren't letting those college boys touch you at all, huh?" logan mocks, adding another finger and creating a steady pace.

"n-no!" you whine, lifting your hips a little.

"you were waiting for a real man to have his way with you, isn't that right, pretty girl?" he growls, pushing your hips back down.

you completely missed logan pulling off to the side of the road until now. his pace increases becoming rather rough now that he isn't driving. logan leaves deep purple bruises down your neck and across your chest, praising you to no end until you gush around his fingers, completely soaking his palm.

your heart pounded like you had just finished a marathon. logan allowed you to catch your breath as he carefully removed his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick clean. he can feel your dazy eyes staring at him as he does so, making a real show of it.

"i've been wanting to do that for months now." he admits with a smirk.

"me too." you said, leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss; tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. logan wraps his hands around your hair, pulling you back a little when another moan falls from your lips.

"and we aren't even close to being done."

[togrowoldinv]

The Retreat

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

When you go on a church retreat, you have a very interesting conversation with Wanda

Note: I have missed writing for this Wanda! Can’t get her out of my head lately. Y’all enjoy this one!

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, sad Wanda, oral and fingering (W receiving), age gap

Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist

When you were asked to go on a women’s retreat, you immediately wanted to say no. The only reason you even go to church is to appease your parents. But it’s the final retreat of the year and you are expected to attend at least one.  

So, you find yourself now waiting by the church bus to load up. You watch as mothers say goodbye to their children and wives kiss their husbands. One family in particular catches your eye.  

The Maximoffs. Wanda, the matriarch, is a good friend of your mothers. They just moved to town a few years ago, but have made quite an impression in the town. Her husband travels for work, so Wanda is often found alone at the church service while her twin boys are in class for the children.  

You wonder how a man could ever leave a woman like that alone. She is definitely the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Some part of you has been attracted to her since you first laid eyes on her.  

Wanda gets on the bus and sits a few seats from you. She gives you a small wave. You put in your headphones to try and drown out the world. The drive only lasts a few hours and soon you’re at the retreat.  

You check in and get your room key. It doesn’t take long to figure out that you will have a roommate when you open the door and see there are two beds. You're praying it’s not one of the older ladies or someone in your peer group who you can’t stand.  

The prayer is answered when the door latch opens and none other than the one and only Wanda Maximoff walks in.  

“Well, hi y/n!” She says. “I didn’t know we were roommates.”  

“Hey Mrs. Maximoff. I didn’t either.”  

“Oh please call me Wanda. This weekend we are peers, sweetheart,” she says.  

She puts her bags on the bed next to the window. Sitting on the bed, she looks around the room. Wanda spots an itinerary on the bedside table.  

“Looks like a busy weekend,” she analyzes. “We should get going to the first session.”  

“Oh, I was thinking I would just rest tonight,” you reply.  

“Nonsense, y/n,” Wanda says. “You came all this way. You might as well try and enjoy it. I know you aren’t feeling the spirit these days, but let me try and do something about that, okay?”  

Your pulse quickens. How can she see right through you? Maybe she’s just being nice. Or maybe it’s worse and your mother asked her to look out for you this weekend.  

She stands and waits for you to join her. You sigh and follow Wanda out the door.  

The first session goes better than you thought it would. At least the food was good and the middling company was made a little better by Wanda’s presence.  

When you get back to the room, it is freezing cold in there. You notice Wanda shivering even in her sweatshirt and sweatpants she has on for bed. Still, you both try to go to sleep for the night.  

At some point though, you get a feeling someone is watching you while you sleep. Or more accurately, as you try to sleep in the arctic environment. Your eyes flutter open to see Wanda sitting up in her bed.  

“What time is it?” You ask her.  

“Early,” Wanda replies. Her voice is gravely, and if you think about it too much you might even be turned on by it.  

“Are you cold?”  

She nods. “The heat isn’t working. I tried, but can’t fix it.”  

You roll out of bed and walk to the thermostat on the wall. Wanda follows you and stands close behind you. You can hear her breathing as you investigate the issue.  

“Can you fix it?” She asks.  

“Unfortunately, I cannot,” you reply. Wanda sighs.  

You turn around and Wanda is still very close to you.  

“We have one option here,” she begins. “To sleep together.”  

“Oh,” you mumble. “We- um-”  

“We could snuggle and then our body heat will keep us warmer,” Wanda further explains. “What do you say?”  

“Okay.”  

“Okay,” Wanda says.  

She leads the way to your bed hoping since it’s the one away from the window it’ll be a little bit warmer. Wanda crawls into the bed and pulls the covers down. She waits for you to join her. You get into the bed cautiously, keeping a little distance between you two.  

“Come on closer, baby. I don’t bite,” Wanda says. She grins at herself.  

You get closer to her and she wraps an arm around your waist. You drape one of your arms across the pillow and she positions herself with her head between your neck and shoulder. Admittedly, it is warmer with the two of you snuggling together.  

Eventually, you both fall into a deep sleep and the snuggling becomes more relaxed. It feels natural when the two of you wake up in the morning still intertwined.  

“Good morning,” you say softly, trying not to get lost in her green eyes.  

“Good morning,” Wanda says. Her face is close to yours. You can practically see every detail of her perfect face. “We should get ready for the day.”  

“Right,” you say, breaking out of your trance. “Of course.”  

You two break apart and you miss her warmth already. When you two show up at breakfast, several people are already in the room.  

“Wanda! Y/n! Join our table!” The leader of the women’s group calls you both over. “How did you two sleep?”  

“Quite well,” Wanda replies. “It was cold, but we made do.”  

“Oh, we can have someone look at your heat,” the leader replies.  

“Thanks that would be-” you start, but are interrupted.  

“That’s alright,” Wanda says, placing a hand on your forearm. “We are okay.”  

It's a strange response, but you try not to read into it. She probably just doesn’t want to cause any trouble. The breakfast lecturer starts soon and your attention shifts.  

At the end of the day, you and Wanda find yourselves sitting in your room once again. Dinner isn’t for another hour, so you are just waiting around.  

“Should we work on our exercises?” Wanda asks, breaking the silence.  

“What?”  

“The vulnerability exercises we talked about today in the final session,” Wanda explains.  

“Oh, sure.”  

Wanda smiles. She sits on the edge of her bed and pats the spot next to her.  

“I’ll go first,” she says. 

“Remind me of the rules,” you ask.  

“We reveal something to each other that no one else knows. So that we can release it and let the weight go.”  

You nod. You have no idea what Wanda might say. Her life seems perfect.  

“Vision left me,” Wanda blurts out quickly.  

“What?” You ask in shock. “Wanda, I- what happened?”  

You hadn’t seen them interact much, but you never assumed that he wasn’t still in the picture. Just that he had been traveling.  

Wanda looks down, playing with the ring on her finger. You can tell she’s holding back tears.  

“Wanda, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I'm really sorry.”  

“No, it might help if I do,” Wanda says. “Things just got bad. They went from okay, to maybe not so good, to fuck we’re over.”  

Your eyes go wide. Never have you ever heard Wanda curse like that.  

“How long ago was it over?”  

“A few months,” Wanda says.  

“And you haven’t told anyone?”  

She shakes her head. “I just keep saying he’s away on business. The truth is he hasn’t touched me in almost a year.”  

“So, that snuggling we did last night was?” 

“The first time I’ve remotely been that close to someone in a year.”  

“Jesus,” you mumble. She doesn’t even scold you for using the Lord’s name in vain. “Can I hug you?”  

You figure she needs human connection now more than ever. She nods and you take Wanda in your arms. She melts against you. Tears fall down her face and soak into your shirt.  

“It’s okay,” you whisper softly to her. “You’re okay, Wanda.”  

“I’m not,” she says through sobs.  

“You will be,” you reply. “I’m here for you. My parents are here for you. All of these stupid, annoying women here are on your side too, okay? We won’t let you fall.”  

Wanda pulls away some and looks at you. You run your hand through her hair and brush your thumb against her cheek gently. She leans in just enough for you to know what’s about to happen.  

“Wanda,” you say. She keeps moving forward. “Mrs. Maximoff.”  

That makes her stop. She looks at you with confusion in her eyes.  

“I just want you. Do you not want me, baby?” Wanda asks.  

“Oh, of course I want you. I just haven’t done the exercise yet.”  

“Oh?”  

You take your other hand and pull her closer by her hip. Your lips are almost touching.  

“My secret is that I really, really want to kiss you right now and fuck you until you forget about your loser ex-husband who never deserved you in the first place,” you say.  

Wanda closes the gap between the two of you. Her lips move fervently against yours. You can tell she’s desperate.  

“When’s the last time he kissed you like this?” You ask between kisses.  

“Never,” she replies.  

You smile into her mouth and move to push her back onto the bed. Her legs wrap around your waist as you pin her arms above her head.  

“Fuck, Wanda, you are the most beautiful woman alive,” you tell her.  

“We shouldn’t do this,” she says. It's her final effort at not letting herself feel as good as he deserves to feel. You move your hands off of her just briefly.  

“We should do this, but I'll stop if you really don’t want this,” you tell her.  

“No, I- we just can’t tell anyone, okay?”  

“Yes ma’am.”  

You put your hands back on her. This time, you go straight for the buttons of her jeans. You kiss down her chest and around her belly. Deftly, you pull down her pants and panties in one fell swoop.  

Wanda shivers beneath the feeling of your wet lips against her hips and as you brush your nose lightly against her core.  

“Oh, god, y/n,” she whimpers.  

“So wet for me, Wanda,” you say. You dive into her core with your tongue. Her folds are intoxicating as you bring her more pleasure than she’s ever felt in her life.  

“I need you,” Wanda says. “Please, baby. Please!”  

You take Wanda’s clit in your mouth and move your fingers into her in tandem. She is writhing beneath your touch.  

“Come for me, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say as you feel her reaching her climax.  

“Fuck!” Wanda comes hard against you.  

You lick her as she comes down and move up her body slowly. You lie next to her and kiss her cheek softly. The juxtaposition of that soft kiss and what you were just doing between her legs makes her heart flutter.  

“Are you okay?” You ask her. She is staring at the ceiling.  

“Yes,” she replies. “Thank you for everything.”  

“Anytime Wanda,” you say. You ignore the ache between your legs, knowing Wanda needs time to process this. “Should we go to dinner?”  

“Oh, I guess so,” she says.  

You sit up, but Wanda grabs your arm before you can stand.  

“I want to fuck you later, okay?” Wanda says. “I just-”  

“Need a minute,” you finish for her.  

“Yeah. Thanks for understanding, sweetheart. It’ll be worth the wait I promise.”  

Wanda kisses you deeply before she gets off the bed to get cleaned up. You watch as she walks with a new bounce in her step that she didn’t have before.  

Maybe this retreat will be interesting after all.  

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ skz and the reason you aren't together !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: angst

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: i loveee me some angst so i hope you'll enjoy! <3 seungmin's part is slightly longer because i wrote it for my beloved keisy @starlostseungmin <3

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - he chose work over pursuing his feelings for you.

He knows how you feel about him, and you know how he feels about you. Things couldn’t be simpler.

But in reality, things were more complicated than ever. Yes, Chan did in fact confess, but with the same breath he also told you this could never go any further.

You were devastated, confused and sad, not understanding what was going on through that bright mind of his.

You liked each other, you both wanted this – so, what was the issue?

It wasn’t you, it could never be. It was him, as always.

He was too busy, his job too demanding to leave any room for you and the precious feelings you’ve developed for him.

Chan felt like he didn’t deserve your love, because he could never be there for you in the way you needed a boyfriend to be.

He could never be there every morning when you woke up, kiss you goodbye each time you left the house or greet you with a big hug when you returned. He just couldn’t, too caught up in work to even notice the hours tick by.

You didn’t deserve an absent lover, one that could not put you first.

No matter how much he cared, how much his whole being longed for you, his job would always be his main priority. Then, his seven brothers. While you, would end up being third on his list.

It pained him to admit it, and even more so admit it to you but since he respected you so much, you deserved nothing but the truth.

This information crushed you, every word that left his mouth a stone that contributed to the mountain you were quickly getting buried under.

“But I love you.”

He shook his head, brown curls getting into glossy eyes. “I love you too, but we – I, can’t.”

At the end, just as you were preparing to depart his studio, he stood up. Without thinking, you hugged tightly, aware this would be the last time before things would change forever.

“Please don’t be sad because of me.”

How could you not? How did he expect you to not mourn the beautiful relationship you could have had, if only he wasn’t so against it?

If only he would have chosen you.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - because he broke up with you.

Yeah, pro idol Minho ended your relationship on a random Thursday night, taking everyone but most importantly you, by complete surprise.

“Let’s break up.”

You can’t believe your ears, especially since you’re in his house, eating the food he just prepared for the both of you, in his kitchen while wearing one of his shirts.

Nothing was amiss, nothing even prompted it. Things have been going great in your relationship – there was no recent argument or disagreement that could explain his sudden decision.

Blames it on his work and his hectic schedule, trying to appear as detached and unaffected as he possibly could. But you know better; you see it all.

The way his fist clenches over the dish rag, how his eyes won’t meet yours even for a split second. This isn’t something he wants to do, not in the slightest. Yet, here he is, breaking both of your hearts for a reason he doesn’t even bother revealing.

It stings in the worst way possible, even more so when you stand up to hug him and he just puts a hand up, stopping you in your tracks.

“Please, Y/n. Don’t make this harder for me.”

Tears well up in your eyes and that’s when he looks away, slumping against the counter as a sniff reaches his ears. He’s gripping the wood with such force you’re afraid it might actually snap.

“Why are you doing this? What’s going on?”

But Minho doesn’t respond, not even as you start crying and begging him to talk to you, to tear down the wall he suddenly plopped right between you two in your relationship.

He’s so close, mere inches away, but his heart that belonged to you, that always responded to yours, is suddenly grabbed harshly out of your hands and shipped away to an unknown destination.

“Minho.” You sniff, not hiding your tears or the pain that’s slowly ripping your heart to pieces and letting them fall all the way down to your stomach, trying to escape from the torture. Because even the idea of not having him in your life was pure torture.

“I think you should go.”

He walks past you, head hung low as he throws the dish rag on the table without saying anything else, putting an end to the conversation. An end to your relationship. Throwing it all away like the time spent together meant absolutely nothing to him.

Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

But it wasn’t, not like he’d ever let see you the way he broke down as you slammed the front door shut, walking out of his life for good. Even if you didn’t agree, it was better this way.

Your life was better, and happier, without him in it. That’s what he kept murmuring to himself as he slid to the ground, against his bedroom door, crying while clutching his chest, afraid his heart might stop beating.

It was all for the better.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - is already in a relationship.

The most stupid thing you can ever do in this lifetime is fall in love with someone who’s already in love with another.

Not only is he in love, he’s also in relationship that’s been going on for three beautiful years.

The thing is, you haven’t always had feelings for Changbin.

It was weird, really. For the longest time now, he was just your bubbly co-worker who laughed so loud the whole department could hear him. The mood maker of the company.

It happened on the annual Christmas party, where you drunk a little too much as you were nursing a broken heart after your ex dumped you out of the blue.

The whole world was spinning but you were happy – happier than you’ve been in months.

Noticing you could barely stand, Changbin ever the gentleman, offered to drive you home.

You complained and complained but after some more convincing from him, Changbin managed to coax you onto the passenger seat of his sports car.

You were silent the whole ride but as he parked on your driveway, he gasped, worriedly grasping your hands and exclaiming about the tears on your cheeks. You didn’t even notice you were crying.

But that’s when the dam broke and it all came to the surface, tears flowing freely down your face and neck as you sobbed, telling Changbin everything from beginning to end.

And he listened, holding your hands and nodding when appropriate, offering you the occasional sip of water or a tissue to wipe your face, not interrupting once.

His heart broke for you, unaware his mere presence was already working on mending yours.

The next morning, you almost didn’t show up to work as you remembered everything, how you made a fool out of yourself in front of everyone but especially Changbin. But something pushed you to do so.

As you arrived, a care basket was on your desk, accompanied by a little note with a crooked smiley face and then, he appeared, doing the exact same expression.

And you laughed, wholeheartedly. And you continued to do so as you began taking your lunch breaks together, working side by side and even taking turns on driving the other home.

Falling for him was inevitable, but you didn’t mind, all warm and fuzzy on the inside as the heart your ex broke was anew.

That is, until you met her. You and Changbin became so close that he couldn’t help but want to introduce you to his other half, the woman who loved him unconditionally that knew a little too much about you.

And just like that, your heart shattered once again, the pieces so tiny they were easily blown away in the wind, leaving behind a big whole were all of your love once resided. How could you be so stupid to believe someone could ever love you again?

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - you found out he was in love with someone else.

Plain and simple, as heartbreaking as it sounds.

Let me paint this picture: you two are best friends, each other’s safe places. You always talk about everything and anything with one another, feeling comfortable to share even your darkest secrets.

Because of that, you genuinely thought he might even reciprocate your feelings at some point.

But one day, as you’re both hanging out at your house, watching a movie, all of the hope and daydreams you held in your heart for a happy ending with him just get crushed.

He suddenly dumps this new information on you while he’s casually munching on some popcorn, watching the couple on the screen confess their love for each other like your heart didn’t just stop beating.

You’re so taken aback that you stop breathing for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes.

For some strange reason, Hyunjin doesn’t meet your gaze even as it goes silent between you two and your eyes keep burning holes into the side of his head.

Only when you finally tear your gaze away, eyes glossy as you try to murmur encouraging words does he finally turn to you.

His breath hitches in his throat at the sight but other than that, he doesn’t comment on it.

The whole ordeal feels like a slap in the face, hurting more than any physical injury you’ve ever sustained but, it’s not like you could blame anyone but yourself for it. You’ve missed your chance and now, Hyunjin was going to be in a happy relationship with someone else.

So, as expected from any best friend put in that situation, you say through gritted teeth.

“You should confess.”

Hyunjin searches your face for any sign of discomfort and finds many – but, as expected, doesn’t say anything, just looks away and nods slowly. Like he just can’t maintain eye contact for more than five seconds at a time.

And that’s the end of it. The whole vibe changes, now uncomfortable and cold and it’s clear that neither of you is paying any attention to the movie anymore.

But he still remains till the end, and when the credits start rolling, you stand up first and bid him goodnight without your usual warm smile or departing embrace before sprinting up the stairs to your room.

His heart squeezes painfully in his chest as your door slams shut, the tears in your eyes bringing him unexplainable sorrow.

And as he leaves your apartment that night, down in the dumps, you know things between you have changed forever.

Because that’s the last time you and Hyunjin talk.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - he hasn’t confessed yet.

Jisung has liked you for a while now but for some reason, every time he wanted to take that leap of faith and finally confess, something always came up.

You were interrupted, plans had to be cancelled or you were simply too busy to even talk to each other.

It was driving him insane, especially when he’d spot you at an event surrounded by people he felt he couldn’t push through, missing his chance at your attention every time.

He felt forced to watch you from the sidelines, a background character in your life that would never get his moment to shine.

You were friends, but he often felt he cared about you more than you cared about him and it was tearing him apart.

Each time you smiled or laughed at one of his jokes, everything around him disappeared as time seemed to come to a stop, making you look even more beautiful. Which was a hard thing to do since you were already perfect in his eyes.

His insecurities and crippling fear of rejection were literally ruining his life, preventing him from experiencing the love story he’s been yearning for.

Jisung was good at hiding his feelings from you, but sometimes, he slipped up.

Like that time, he held your waist for a little too long, or guided your hands over the piano keys like it was the most natural thing in the world. Those moments when he wasn’t overly conscious, when he got lost in the moment, were your favorite.

You see, in his mission to prevent you from discovering how insanely in love he was with you, Jisung managed to make you believe the opposite. That he hated you. Okay, maybe not hate, just strongly dislike.

Always avoiding being left alone with you, barely meeting your eyes or pulling away when you got a little too close. He seemed repulsed, and it hurt you.

Where you really that unpleasant in his eyes?

He was nice and bubbly around everyone else, no matter the gender. Why couldn’t he be the same Jisung whose smile made your heart skip several beats around you, too?

This went on for a long while, which solidified the idea he hated you in your head, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

One day, Jisung almost walked in on you and Felix…hugging on the practice room floor? His heart dropped, brows furrowing in confusion. Felix knew how he felt about you, he would never disregard that, right?

Everything clicked when he heard your muffled sobs and pained voice.

“I give up, Felix.” You said, hiding your face in his chest as a loud sob escaped you. “Jisung hates me, it’s official! I tried so, so hard but it was no use.” Felix murmured something back, deep voice uncharacteristically soft as he comforted you, caressing your back.

Jisung couldn’t hear what he said though, eyes filling with tears as the only thing resonating in his ears was the pounding of his own heart. You thought…he hated you?

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ - because your relationship is too…complicated at the moment.

Complicated didn’t even begin to describe your relationship with the ray of sunshine.

He was your ex that somehow slithered his way back into your life again, only this time, as a friend. Not even, just an acquaintance that knew too many of your secrets and biggest aspirations.

There was no denying the feelings you still harbored for him, the flame flickering in your heart each time he was around; each time he spoke, he smiled, he laughed or even as much as looked at you, your heart thumped so loudly in your chest you were afraid he was able to hear it.

It was embarrassing, especially since he didn’t seem as affected.

Your relationship ended on a sour note – arguing, screaming, crying, the whole package.

Yet a few months later, when you happened to be at the same party, Felix accompanied by a friend walked up to you like nothing even happened, greeting you brightly.

It was horrible, and you almost cried right there and then, missing the way his doe eyes took in all of the little details that changed about you ever since you broke up, desperately committing them to memory.

Like he never wanted to forget, because he didn’t. Felix never wanted to forget about you, even if you didn’t love him anymore.

And so, this happened a few more times until the inevitable took place.

You kissed. And never spoke about it.

And then you kissed again, and again, until he was coming over to your house in the middle of the night to do more than kiss.

It messed with your head, the way he was looking at you – like you hung the stars on the night sky for him and him alone. Like he loved you and wasn’t breaking your heart each time those plush lips kissed every inch of your skin, worshipping every part of your body.

“Why do you keep coming back?” You’d whisper one night, resting your head on his naked chest as the moon bare witness to your unspoken feelings.

“You keep calling.”

“And when I’ll stop,” you move to look at him, face mere inches away from his, hands supporting your weight on his chest, “will you still come?”

He hesitates, staring straight into your eyes. “Most likely, yeah.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Yeah…complicated.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - because he is your best friend.

For most, the transition from best friends to lovers was as natural as breathing, something inevitable that was bound to happen one way or the other. Not for Seungmin.

He didn’t even allow his mind to go down that road, to think about being more than friends with you, one of the people he held the closest to his heart.

Not because he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, but because he was afraid.

Yes, he was afraid that once that line was crossed, the one that kept you firmly in place in the beautiful friendship that only blossomed and became very special over the years, it would all disappear.

Things would change and shift, which would bring forth your downfall.

In his eyes, the risk of fighting and breaking up was too big for him to even consider taking your relationship to the next level. He didn’t want to lose you, never.

But what he failed to take into account was that you would not stay single forever.

That’s why, the moment you skipped over to him and squealed about having a date, his heart almost stopped beating.

His world was spinning, like an earthquake started in his head which was quickly crumbling down every single wall and boundary, and rational decision he ever made over the years.

“You…have a date?” He gulped, ignoring the alarms going off in his head that were deafening him. “With who?”

“This guy from work.” You shrugged, excitement dimming as your gaze met his, serious. “He isn’t the one I like, but I guess it will have to do for now.”

Seungmin wasn’t stupid but his heart understood your allusion before his mind did, thumping loudly and stealing his breath away.

You were talking about him. You were going out with another guy but were thinking about him – he was the one you liked!

Still, he didn’t vocalize a response, choosing to nod and pat you on the back gently, staring at anything else other than the disappointment that overwhelmed your whole frame, making you appear oh so small.

The day of your date arrived sooner than he’d like, and Seungmin was miserable, especially since you texted him the location ‘just in case’.

Usually, he was more than happy to know where you were, safe and sound, but this time he would have preferred you didn’t let him know you were with another guy at the restaurant you frequented together.

Hours passed, and night was making its presence known, but still no sign from you. Was he worried? No. Because for once, you staying out meant the date was a success and you were having the time of your life with this guy that wasn’t him.

That’s until, a mere half an hour later, loud knocking had him off the couch in a second, opening the door to find you frowning, and with tears in your eyes. Opening his mouth to speak, shocked, thinking something had happened on the date, your finger hitting his chest stopped him.

“Why didn’t you come?” You sniffed. “I thought going out with someone else would finally prompt you to admit that what we have is more than a simple friendship! Do you hate me that much?”

He was speechless, grabbing you by the elbows as you barged in, tears streaming down your face.

“Answer me, Kim Seungmin!” Well, he was fucked.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - isn’t sure what he feels for you yet.

Or better yet, his commitment issues prevented him from admitting to any feelings he might have.

See, you weren’t just friends. You were a little more than that, spending most of your free time together going to cute cafes and what would be considered dates, acting all lovey dovey.

That is, when you weren’t spending the weekend bound to his bed. That wasn’t fair, sometimes he was the one tied up. A very mutual arrangement.

Jeongin managed to drag you into a situationship you were now too deep into to break off, having developed actual feelings.

But each time you tried to speak to him about said feelings, he’d close off quicker than a frightened snail, impossible to reach.

After each one of these occasions, he wouldn’t contact you for days on end, sometimes even weeks, leaving you wondering if he’d ever come back.

He always did, he couldn’t stay away from you no matter how much he tried.

Even if he messed with other people in that time, he’d still make his way back to you, smiling like nothing even happened and ready to give you all of his attention and affection again.

It was exhausting, and very, very painful.

But you still welcomed him back with open arms, too happy to see him to even care that each time he appeared in your life again, you were not the same.

Every time he disappeared and you didn’t say anything, a piece of your heart was ripped off harshly, stomped on and then thrown in the trash, devoid of any color or life. Like an old toy, forgotten in favor of a new, shiny one.

But Jeongin didn’t care. It’s not like he could be bothered to pick up your scattered pieces – they didn’t interest him, you did.

Not like he ever noticed the light in your eyes dimming each time he stormed back into your life after pretending you didn’t exist for weeks.

To be honest, you don’t think you’ll ever be together.

Not now, or in the future.

No matter how much you hated to admit it, the facts were neatly laid out before you – Jeonging didn’t care about you at all, no matter how sweet, loving or good you were to him.

He thought you couldn’t notice, that your love for him was too blinding for you to see anything else other than him.

But you did. And he also did when one day, for the first time since he met you, as he stumbled out of a bar, giddy and tipsy with his phone to his ear ready to hear your sweet voice, his call didn’t go through.

[ceilidho]

He’s late for his own trial.

You’ve been standing outside the courthouse for what feels like twenty minutes now, tapping your heel on the ground and checking your watch for the umpteenth time. The two of you are already supposed to be inside the courtroom getting set up and going over the details of his case, but instead of grabbing a coffee at the shop across the street and combing over the case notes, you’ll be pressed to even get a couple hissed whispers out between you two before the judge steps up to the bench. 

You think about calling your client again, but that thought quickly evaporates when the sound of muffled heavy metal rumbles out of the gunmetal sedan that just pulled into the parking lot at around thirty miles an hour. You take a deep breath when he parks, already trying to talk yourself out of the bad mood you’re in.

In the back of your mind, you’re about eighty percent sure that there’s no way you’re leaving today without a guilty conviction. When Johnny steps out of the car, the cheap sunglasses obscuring his eyes do nothing to distract from the way he’s obviously hungover. He’s buttoning up his suit jacket from the middle button as he walks up the stone steps towards you, sliding his sunglasses into the breast pocket. 

“Don’t you look sharp,” you remark dryly when he’s close enough to lock eyes with you. You have to force down a shudder that threatens to ripple down your spine at the cocky grin that spreads over his face. 

You’re obviously being facetious. Johnny’s suit is two sizes too small for him—it looks like the last time he wore it was to his high school graduation and he’s grown at least a foot since then—and his shirt and pants are rumpled like he wore them to bed the night before. The scruff sprouting from his cheeks and chin also supports that notion; he’s still rubbing the sleep out of his eye when he walks up to you.

“‘N’ ye look—I wanna say exquisite, but we should probably keep it professional, huh?” 

He winks down at you and the twinkle in his eye infuriates you as much as it ingratiates you. You didn’t spend nearly ten years working your way through undergrad, law school, and years as a public defender to start preening at the attention of the first cute guy you’ve had to represent in your career. 

“I think we passed ‘professional’ after the seventh pass you made at me.”

“‘N’ it won’t be the last. Anyway, stop wasting time—let’s get this show on the road,” he says, side-stepping around you towards the court doors. “I’m not going to jail because someone wanted to flirt with me before my trial.” 

Your jaw drops. He acts like he isn't in this situation because he was accused of holding up a gas station six months ago. You think he’s about to brush past you until you feel a hand plant itself on the middle of your back and push you forward, making you almost stumble into the courthouse. 

“Anyway, we can pick up this conversation in the bog during the break if yer that hot for it,” he murmurs into your ear before you’re separated and searched upon entering the courthouse. Your cheeks do not—absolutely do not—heat up at his tone of voice. 

You’re right in that the two of you barely have any time to prepare. The prosecution is already set up at their table and even the court reporter and judge’s clerk are already present. You squirm at a side-eye from the other counsel, hurrying Johnny over to your table and spending the next ten minutes with your lips practically pressed against his ear.

All throughout the trial, he leans back in his chair and looks like the picture of a petulant child who’s been dragged along by his parent. If you could sink your head into your palms without immediately losing face in front of the judge, you would; all he had to do—and you’d reminded him this for weeks before the trial—was sit straight and not roll his eyes when the prosecution brought up their witnesses. He can’t even manage that.

Somehow though, miraculously almost—and in your defense, even Johnny looks shocked when the verdict is rendered—he’s not found guilty. You’re still a little shell shocked walking out of the courthouse, the sunlight making you squint and then a cup a hand around your eyes. 

He fits a big hand around your waist when you’re about to part ways with him, pulling you back into his chest. Your head whips up to stare at him, ignoring the clench in your belly when his fingers curl into your flesh and that same smug grin quirks up on his lips.

“Why don’t we go grab a drink to celebrate our win, hen?” he suggests. 

“I don’t grab drinks with clients,” you snap, trying to put some distance between you and him. 

Johnny leans down a bit more, always towering over you, until his face is so close that you almost go cross-eyed. “We dinnae have to go out then. We can just go back to my car. Ah can show you how much ah pure appreciate a’ ye did fer me.”

“I don’t need your thanks, I get paid for this—”

“Baby,” he murmurs, stressing the word out, and the moment suddenly feels cramped and intimate, despite the fact that you’re standing in the middle of a crowded parking lot. “Just let me eat ye out in th' backseat.”

You’re stunned for all of ten seconds before you try to glance inconspicuously around the parking lot. It doesn’t look like anyone’s paying attention. Johnny notices it at the same time as you and his smile goes devilish, teeth showing behind his lips. 

“Aye, ah ken that look. Come on—I ken a spot down th’ road where we can park.”